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© Vakkantham Suryanarayana Rao
NAVAGRAHA PURANA
ISBN 978-81-8495-931-4
First Jaico Impression: 2016
No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the publishers.
For my parents
Subbalakshmamma and Varadaiah
who were the cause of my existence and
my wife Swarna Kumari
who is the cause of my happiness
Contents
Prologue
Annihilation and Creation
PART 1: THE BIRTH OF THE NAVAGRAHAS
The Birth of Surya
The Birth of Chandra
The Birth of Kuja
The Birth of Guru
The Birth of Sukra
The Birth of Budha
The Birth of Sanaischara
The Birth of Rahu
The Birth of Ketu
PART 2: THE LIFE OF THE NAVAGRAHAS
The Life of Surya
The Life of Chandra
The Life of Kuja
The Life of Budha
The Life of Guru
The Life of Sukra
The Life of Sanaischara

The Life of Rahu
The Life of Ketu
The Anointment of the Navagrahas
PART 3: THE GLORY OF THE NAVAGRAHAS
The Glory of Surya
The Glory of Chandra
The Glory of Kuja
The Glory of Budha
The Glory of Guru
The Glory of Sukra
The Glory of Sanaischara
The Glory of Rahu
The Glory of Ketu
Glossary
Slokas
Select Bibliography
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Prologue
T he Ganges, most sacred of India's rivers, flowed sedately past the ghats
of Varanasi, paying homage at the feet of Lord Shiva as Vishwanath. These
were the waters which had witnessed the passage of Rama, Krishna,
Buddha, and other epic heroes and immortals, on earth. What secrets and
ancient memories must the mighty river guard in its depths!
The evening sun shone forth in all its glory and painted the wind- rippled
water in myriad sparkling hues of copper and gold.
Sage Nirvikalpananda gathered his four young disciples and descended the
steps of the ghat to take the ritual bath ordained after an eclipse. As he
offered his prayers to the Sun, Nirvikalpananda's heart warmed to the
beauty of the golden orb which sat like the auspicious tilak on the brow of
the West. The sage intoned his mantra to the Sun, his voice throbbing with
devout harmony:

“Japaakusuma samkaasam kaasyapeyam mahaadyutim

Tamorim sarva paapaghnam pranatosmi divaakaram."

I offer my salutations to Divaakara (Surya), who shines like the japa

flower, who is the son of Kasyapa, who is resplendent, who is the

enemy of darkness, and who is the destroyer of all sins.

Prayer completed, Nirvikalpananda exclaimed in delight, "The sun seems to

have grown in splendor after the eclipse!"

Chidananda smiled and said, "Naturally, master. His relief at having

escaped total oblivion is obviously shining through!"

This evoked merry laughter from his friends.

Then, Sadananda turned respectfully to their guru. "Master, the eclipse has

kindled in me a desire to hear the story of the splendid sun."

His request was seconded by Shivananda, who added, "Why stop with only

the king of the planets? Master, bless us with a discourse on the origins and

history of all the nine planets."

Vimalananda quietly pleaded, "Master, we long to immerse ourselves in the

bottomless ocean of your wisdom. Enlighten us."

Gazing at his disciples with thoughtful eyes, Nirvikalpananda said, "It is

only right that you learn the history of the Nine Planets. And Shivananda

has a point: the stories of the Navagrahas are so intimately woven together

that they can only be appreciated as a unified whole."

With a serene smile, Nirvikalpananda took his seat on the small earthen

platform lovingly crafted by his disciples. The cool river breeze, fragrant

with herbs, carried the melodious chirping of birds. The rays of the rising

sun formed a nimbus of light around him. He was enveloped by a cloak of

devotion and wisdom. Looking fondly at the four sishyas seated before him,

the sage commenced his discourse.

"I rejoice in your interest in the Navagrahas, my sons. The very intention of

gaining knowledge, by paying heed to the spoken word, is commendable.

The virtue of devotion can be attained through nine paths. When a devotee

listens to words about God, sings his glory, or meditates on his mystical

attributes, God blesses him with the quality of piety. God also gifts devotion

to those who prostrate themselves at his holy feet, worship his divinity and

exalt his greatness. Again, those who render God service, celebrate his

friendship or offer their souls to him are rewarded with a truly devout

nature. Of these, listening to insights about God is considered to be the

supreme path to devotion, as the word firmly directs the listener's mind

towards the Divine."

Nirvikalpananda continued, "It is but right that the stories of the Nine

Planets be universally revered and propagated. The enlightened assure us

that hearing, or reading, these stories is tantamount to worshiping the

Navagrahas themselves."

Vimalananda humbly asked, "Guruji, does this mean that we are breaking

our journey until you complete your sermon?"

"Yes, my boy. Let us focus single-mindedly on this crucial narration."

Sadananda piped up, "Master, I have a doubt."

Vimalanda protested in mock horror: "Not again! It's a miracle that

Sadananda's head remains whole on his shoulders – it is always filled to

bursting with doubts!" The other pupils laughed in unison.

Nirvikalpananda smiled and gently rebuked them. "Doubt is but the

intellectual striving for truth. It is the first step on the path to wisdom.

Prasnopashith , the question-and-answer method of oral instruction, is the

best means of seeking and imparting knowledge."

Turning to Sadananda, the sage gently asked, "What is your doubt, my

boy?"

The disciple replied, "Master, why do people worship the Navagrahas with

such awe?'

"Good question, Sadananda. The Nine Planets are so powerful that people's

devotion to them is tempered liberally with fear! After all, the grahas rule

all living beings from the moment they are conceived in their mother's

womb to the instant they draw their last breath. It is the configuration of the

planets at the moment of birth which dictates an individual's horoscope and

ordains his future. The Navagrahas are the embodiment of the infinite

cosmic energy which turns the wheel of life – the wheel of karma itself.

These nine demigods, worshipped with hymns and prayers in countless

temples, actually circumambulate the corona of the universe constantly,

manipulating every life."

The guru turned his solemn gaze on the upturned faces of his enthralled

disciples. "The grahas define the boundaries of each life. Food, health,

progeny, wealth, education, knowledge, glory – every single attribute of

man is based upon the planets' unshakeable influence. They are the ultimate

arbiters of a man's thought, speech, and deed. Their power over man and his

destiny is set in stone."

As the guru paused, Vimalananda interjected: "Master, in that case, if the

planets do not favour …"

Nirvikalpananda silenced him with a gentle gesture. "I am coming to your

point, Vimalananda." The sage continued, "Yes. If the planets condescend to

look favorably on a man, his life will be filled with joy and harmony. If not,

he becomes a storm-tossed boat, buffeted by inexorable waves of sorrow."

The four disciples digested this in silence.

Then, Chidananda asked, "Master, it is only human beings who come under

the influence of the Nine Planets, right?"

"Not only humans, Chidananda. Demons, deities – every living being in

creation must bow to the fate ordained by the Navagrahas ."

Shivananda asked, "Master, does this include the epic heroes of yore?"

"Yes, my son. No one is an exception to the dictates of the Navagrahas,

including the demigods. Why, the avatars of the Supreme God himself are

subject to their influence."

The disciples gasped in surprise: "What?!" "Master, how can this be?"

"Unbelievable, Master!" "No!"

Nirvikalpananda smiled and continued calmly. "My boys, ponder on the

misfortunes which befell the epic heroes you so revere. What made Rama,

the incarnation of Lord Vishnu, endure fourteen years of hardship in the

forest? Did not King Dharmaraja and his brothers suffer twelve years of

vanavasam and live incognito like paupers for another year? How did it

come about that King Harishchandra was forced to sell his beloved wife

and son and labor as a wretched watchman in a cremation ground? Why

was King Trishanku fated to remain suspended upside-down in limbo for all

eternity?"

"Master, all said and done, the Pandavas and the kings were humans. But,

Lord Sri Rama? It's incredible!"

"Is it?" smiled Nirvikalpananda. "Well, Shivananda, consider this: Sri Rama

learnt the hymn, Aditya Hrdaya, from sage Agasthya and recited this

invocation to lord Surya during his epic battle with Ravana. What does this

imply? Sri Rama needed to propitiate the Sun god and ask him to look

favorably upon his endeavor to defeat the king of Lanka."

The disciples slowly nodded in thoughtful agreement.

"Again, in the case of King Dharmaraja, it was Saturn's malign influence

which resulted in his losing everything, including his kingdom, wealth,

army, brothers and wife, in the notorious game of dice with Sakuni. It was

only the intercession of the Sun god, who blessed him with the

inexhaustible akshaya-paatra, which enabled the Pandavas to successfully

endure their forest exile."

Nirvikalpananda considered his disciples. "Surely, you now understand that

all living creatures, without exception, are under the control of the Nine

Planets."

Vimalananda spoke humbly on behalf of his peers: "Master, your

compelling argument has convinced us of the unparalleled power of the

Nine Planets. We are no longer skeptics."

The master nodded in approval. His voice took on a solemn timbre: "Come,

my children. Let me now tell you the glorious story of the Navagrahas. Let

me lead you on a voyage of discovery which will bestow enlightenment,

and the benediction of the Nine Planets, on you."

Closing his eyes and folding his arms in devout prayer, Nirvikalpananda

intoned his salutation to the Nine Planets:

‘Harih Om!

Adityaadi navagraha devataabhyo namah

Adityaaya cha Somaaya Mangalaaya Budhaaya cha

Guru Sukra Sanibhyascha Raahave Ketave namaha.’

Salutations to Aditya and the other Navagrahas. I offer my salutations

to Aditya, Soma, Mangala, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu.

After remaining in silent meditation for a minute, the sage opened his eyes

and said, "My dear disciples, time flows in four great cycles called the

yugas. The Kruthayuga, Trethayuga and Dwaparayuga have passed and

this present age is the Kaliyuga, a part of the Vaivasvata Manvanthara

period of universal time. This cycle applies to all the fourteen lokas, or

planes of existence – Satyaloka, Tapoloka, Janoloka, Maharloka,

Suvarloka, Bhuvarloka, Bhuloka, Atalaloka, Vitalaloka, Sutalaloka,

Talaatalaloka, Mahaatalaloka, Rasaatalaloka and Paataalaloka. The nine

grahas appeared at the beginning of srishti, or creation. Srishti occurred in

the Adi Kruthayuga. Srishti cannot be understood independently of Maha

Pralaya , or total annihilation, as the one is the converse of the other."

Annihilation and Creation

N irvikalpananda continued. "The cosmic phenomenon of Maha Pralaya

raged unchecked for four hundred human years, laying waste to the

fourteen lokas .

"In the first phase of annihilation, a fierce drought ravaged the universe for

a hundred human years. The three worlds were clamped in famine's iron

grip. Bereft of water, the vital element of life, organisms perished in their

entirety and the cosmos was devoid of life. The bone-dry lokas became

tinderboxes poised on the brink of explosion.

"Even as the universe continued to reel under the unrelenting rays of the

sun, there came a fearsome inferno. Lord Shiva assumed the awesome form

of Maha Rudra, and launched into his Rudra Tandava – the fiery Dance of

Destruction. Colossal, insatiable tongues of flame leaped from his gaping

Third Eye and devoured everything in their path. This inferno of dissolution

lasted for a human century and reduced the lokas to piles of blackened

ashes.

"Before the smoldering fires could die out, the third phase of the pralaya

commenced. Ferocious gales tore through the cosmos and these

tempestuous winds roared incessantly for another hundred human years.

Tornadoes and cyclones, in a continuous whirl of destruction, laid waste to

all matter.

"Still unappeased, the pralaya worked itself up to a climax of torrential

rain, which lasted for another hundred human years. Sheets of rain, almost

opaque in density, attacked a cosmos already in the throes of death. A

diabolic group of seven storm clouds merged to form a colossal elephant's

trunk and trumpeted the end of the universe. Samvartaka’s force left a trail

of destruction in its cataclysmic wake. Bheemanaadam’s downpour roared

like frenzied thunder, while Dronam crushed the lokas with its humongous

weight. Indram lashed the universe with knife-edged drops of rain.

Balaahakam was a moving mountain of water and Vidyuthpatakam ripped

apart the desolate wasteland with blinding flashes of lightning. The swirling

rain waters became an ocean of annihilation. The universe lay submerged

beneath the heaving waves. Absolute darkness shrouded the entire cosmos.

All that existed was a monstrous void.

"But wait – in that vast emptiness, like a beacon of hope in the dark night of

despair, floated a single banyan leaf. It shimmered a glossy green against

the dark waters. On its leathery surface lay an infant of incredible, luminous

beauty. Dark curls fringed a face as delicate as a blue lotus. In a gesture of

ineffable charm, the baby boy suckled his own toe, holding it up to lips as

red as the bimba fruit. The infant's eyes were closed in tranquil repose and

the leaf cradled its precious burden, rocking it tenderly even on the stormy

waters of the deluge.

"This exquisite child was none other than Lord Mahavishnu. But, this was

not the beautiful Keshava who floated on the Ocean of Milk, reclining

gracefully on Adisesha's coils. This was Sunya, a lone waif, symbolic of the

Absolute, devoid of attributes, the very essence of being. In the adorable

infant's tiny stomach lay the entire cosmos which the Sustainer had

swallowed for safekeeping. As the baby lay in repose, in the transcendental

consciousness of yoga nidra , or yogic slumber, he embraced all the tired

souls who had wrestled with the cycle of birth and death, experiencing pain,

poverty, strife and sorrow. Gathering them into his compassionate being, the

Lord wrapped them tenderly in the calm of a deep slumber, which was

healing balm to their wounds."

Nirvikalpananda paused. Bowing his head in prayer, his voice brimming

with devotion, he recited,

‘Kara aravindena pada aravindam

Mukha aravindena vinivesayantam

Vatasya patrasya pute sayaanam

Baalam mukundam manasaa smaraami.’

I meditate on that Holy Child who sleeps on the banyan leaf with His

lotus-like foot in His lotus- like hand, placed in His lotus-like mouth.

The words vibrated in the stillness of dawn and seemed to echo from the

waters of the Ganges. The four disciples remained spell-bound by the magic

of their master's voice.

Nirvikalpananda resumed his discourse.

"Mahavishnu awoke from his yogic slumber and prepared to recreate the

universe. Now, in the place of the adorable, sleeping infant, stood the

creator in his awesome Viraat Roopa. His infinite faces, arms and legs

encompassed space as the universal consciousness. Mahavishnu looked

upon the waters of the great pralaya and there emerged from that cosmic

womb, Brahma, as his maanasaputra, or mind-born son.

Brahma opened his curious eyes and gazed in wonder at the majestic form

towering over him. Sri Mahavishnu reassured him: "Kumara! I am Sri

Mahavishnu, from whom everything originates. In my desire to witness the

progression of creation, I have assumed the cosmic form of the Viraat

Purusha. I am Viswa karta and Viswa bharta – the Creator and Lord of the

universe. I, Parabrahma, the Supreme Lord, have given you form as

Brahma, my son, the first being in all creation."

Brahma bowed in reverence and said, "Father, I am honored. Tell me your

will."

"My son, you are the ordained Creator of all life. Hosts of beings await your

touch to come into existence: the god-like devas, the demons, the garudas

and the gandharvas. Give life to the horse-headed kinnaras and

kimpurushas. Let the khechara take flight in the skies, the bhoochara walk

the earth and the jalacharas swim the seas. Go forth and discharge your

sacred duty of srishti."

Brahma's brow furrowed in confusion. "Father, what is the meaning of

srishti ?"

Vishnu expounded on creation. "My son, srishti takes four forms: Sankalpa

srishti, Sandarsna srishti, Sparsa srishti, and Samparka srishti. I have

chosen you to be the instrument of the first form of creation, which is based

on will. The other three forms will be executed independently by various

beings."

The Viraat Purusha continued: "The worlds, with the hills, forests, rivers,

oceans and all other requirements for life, will be generated by the power of

my will. On your part, I decree that you will into being maanasaputras and

their wives. These mind-born sons will not be bound by any ties of

consanguinity. With their wives, they will procreate and fill the worlds with

their progeny."

Brahma bowed in agreement: "Yes, revered Father."

Vishnu gave his son further instructions: "Similarly, to populate Bhuloka,

you are to create Manu and his wife, Manupatni, as the progenitors of the

human race."

Brahma, although eager to please, hesitated and stood before his sire with

downcast eyes. Vishnu gently inclined his head in interrogation.

"Father, forgive my inadequacy. I confess that I have no knowledge of the

act of creation."

The Viraat Purusha smiled and assuaged his son's doubts. "Kumara,

penance is the key to all enlightenment. It will throw light on your duties

and responsibilities and show you the path to their execution. Go forth with

confidence. You will have the right to decree the fate of all your creation.

Let the sequence of creation bring good fortune to the human race. Also, let

the gods of the nine planets, who are currently in their subtle forms in the

upper plane of light, take birth with gross bodies and rule human life. The

happiness of human beings will depend on their worship of these

Navagrahas ."

Even as Brahma paid heed to Vishnu's instructions, his eyes widened in

amazement – all round him unfolded a miraculous panorama of lokas,

oceans, hills, forests and rivers! The Viraat Purusha’s will had taken

concrete form.

Brahma now recollected his own ordained task: Sankalpa srishti.

He closed his eyes in resolve and willed creation. Four sons emerged from

Brahma's volition and looked round in wonder.

Brahma said, "I am Brahma, the Creator. You are Sanaka, Sananda,

Sanatsujatha and Sanatkumara - my maanasaputras, sons of my will."

The four sons stood with respectfully folded hands before their father.

Brahma continued, "Dear sons, I have created you in accordance with the

dictates of my father, Sri Mahavishnu. I will now create women who will be

your spouses and beget offspring through you."

The four young children shook their heads in instinctive negation and

declared in one voice, "Father, we are satwa roopas - forms of pure

goodness."

Sananda said, "Our sole purpose is to gain and disseminate knowledge."

Sanatkumara firmly stated, "We do not wish to procreate."

Sanatsujatha nodded in agreement, "Yes, our only objective is the search for

the jnana of enlightenment."

Brahma heard their joint resolution in astonishment and said, "My sons, you

are of tender age and do not need to be consumed by the thirst for

knowledge yet. Follow my counsel: reach manhood and enter into conjugal

life with women. Then …"

Sanaka determinedly interrupted Brahma's words: "Father, we intend to

remain children and undertake lifelong vows of celibacy as

balabrahmacharins. We wish to roam the universe, spreading the

knowledge of the Vedas."

They made their respectful obeisance to the dumbstruck Brahma and left on

their travel.

Brahma, realizing that his first step in creation had taken an unexpected

turn, contemplated his further course of action. Aware that it was the decree

of the Paramathma which directed every development, Brahma surrendered

to his will and tranquilly resumed his task. He closed his eyes in deep

meditation, assumed a yogic posture, and let the pranava mantra , the

primordial sound 'Om, ' reverberate in his being. His consciousness took

concrete shape as nine maanasaputras, aged twenty-five years, clothed in

pristine white, designed to carry out his will to procreate. Brahma looked at

his mind-born sons with satisfaction.

The young men gazed round them and cried out in bewilderment, "Aarya,

who are you? And who are we?"

"I am Brahma, first-born of Sri Mahavishnu. He has made me both the

Creator and the first creation of the universe. You are Athri, Mareechi,

Bhrigu, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, Kardama, Angiras, and Vasishta – my

maanasaputras.”

Brahma smiled at them reassuringly and continued, "My mind- born sons, I

have commenced the cycle of srishti. It is my wish that you, as Brahma's

maanasaputras, produce the various races of devas, gandharvas, kinnaras,

kimpurushas, garudas and rakshasas. Comfortable living arrangements are

in place for you and you will soon be granted wives."

The young men exclaimed in surprise at Brahma's words.

Mareechi asked, "What does 'wife' mean, Oh father?"

Brahma said, "My son, a wife is a man's female counterpart and

companion."

Bhrigu wondered, "Is such a female necessary, father?"

Brahma patiently explained: "Yes, indeed. The act of procreation requires

the male and the female to live in conjugation. This is the secret of creation.

You will understand this natural process in the course of time."

Brahma paused and looked solemnly at his maanasaputras . "My sons, Sri

Mahavishnu has ordained that you, through your children, will be

instrumental in a far-reaching phenomenon – the birth of the Nine Planets."

The young men, conscious of the importance of Brahma's words, listened in

rapt attention.

The Creator continued, "The Nine Planets, who currently reside in spirit

form in the luminous tejomandala of anthariksha, will be born to your sons

with gross physical bodies and glorious forms. These Navagrahas will

bestow power and prestige on all living creatures, most particularly on the

human race. They will influence both the subtle and gross contour of men's

lives, effectively ruling all their thoughts and actions. The Nine Planets will

be the dispensers of joy, sorrow, poverty, wealth and every other aspect of

mortal life. The Supreme Lord, in his mercy, has provided man with a

reliable path to better living - the worship of the Navagrahas ."

The maanasaputras, as one, bowed their heads in reverence to Brahma.

Vasishta, speaking for them all, asked, "Father, what is your will?"

"My sons, go forth and make your homes where you wish in this beautiful

cosmos. Dedicate your lives to meditation on the Supreme Soul who is the

Creator and Father of the Universe. Meditation is the key to enlightenment.

It will dispel all your doubts and guide you in the fulfillment of your future

duties. As I continue with the cycle of srishti , you will be provided with

wives who will be your partners for life. With them, begin your task of

begetting children filled with devotion to Lord Vishnu."

The maanasaputras replied in unison, "Father, we bow to your wishes."

Brahma smiled in satisfaction at the nine young men, so eager to obey his

command, and bid them a fond farewell. "My sons, may the Supreme God

bless your endeavor."

Brahma went back to the task ordained by Lord Vishnu. As he sank into

deep meditation, his entire being again throbbed with the pranava mantra ,

'Om. ' There emerged from his right thumb a twenty-five year old male,

clothed in flaming red. Simultaneously, a young damsel, draped in white,

materialized from Brahma's left thumb.

Brahma gazed upon his new creation and addressed the man: "Son, you are

Daksha prajapati – my maanasaputra.”

Turning to the woman, he said, "You are Prasooti, created to be Daksha's

wife."

As the couple bowed in reverence, Brahma continued, "Daksha, take

Prasooti's hand in your own. With this, you are now husband and wife. Live

together in harmony as the ideal couple and beget progeny. May Lord

Vishnu make your union fruitful."

Daksha and Prasooti received Brahma's blessing with respect and set forth

to carry out his command.

Brahma again resumed his sacred mission of srishti , closing his eyes in

meditation and reciting the Omkar . A movement on his lap made him open

his eyes in surprise: a charming infant gurgled up at him.

Brahma's heart melted in affection as the little boy's ruby-red lips lisped,

"Narayana!"

Brahma cradled the baby in his arms and smiled tenderly. "Child, you are

Narada, my son."

To which the baby again chanted, "Narayana!"

Holding this precocious infant before him, Brahma peered intently into his

cherubic face. Before his amazed eyes, the baby metamorphosed into a

twenty-five year old individual.

Brahma collected himself and said, "Narada, dearest of all my

maansaputras , take your choice of the beautiful damsels in my creation

and make her your wife. It is my wish that you beget multitudinous progeny

with her."

Narada made but one joyous reply: "Narayana, Narayana, Narayana!" He

paused and smiled up at Brahma, saying: "Father, my desired life-long

companion is the holy chant, 'Narayana!' The only progeny I need is the

bliss that fills my soul when I recite the Lord's name."

The confounded Brahma exclaimed: "Narada!"

"Father, will you kindly explain the significance of the name you have

given me?"

Brahma calmed himself and patiently replied, "My son, I have chosen a

very meaningful name for you. Narada signifies 'The Dispenser of

Knowledge of the Supreme Soul.'"

"Tell me, father, should I not live up to that blessed name? Is it not fitting

that I disseminate knowledge to all the worlds – instead of progeny to a

wife?"

Brahma reddened with rage. "Narada, this is willful disobedience. I warn

you – your intransigence cries out for punishment."

Narada smiled beatifically and bowed his head. "A father's discipline is but

a boon to a son! I accept your sentence, father."

Brahma's face was suffused by the indignant passion of rajoguna . He

pronounced his curse in thunderous tones: "Narada! Your arrogance

condemns you to wander the lokas as an eternal bachelor. You will never

experience the repose of abiding in one place."

Narada remained blissfully unperturbed and declared, "I am indeed blessed.

My permanent bachelorhood, and constant travel, will better equip me to

inspire widespread devotion to Lord Sri Mahavishnu. Reciting the glorious

chant, 'Narayana, Narayana,' will be my cherished mode of penitence."

Narada bowed in gratitude before Brahma and departed happily on his

eternal pilgrimage.

As the chant, 'Narayana, Narayana,' faded into the distance, the bemused

Creator thought, 'My dear son, Narada, has consecrated himself to the Lord.

This is in accordance with Mahavishnu's divine will. So be it. I can but

accede to the Supreme God.'

Brahma resumed the task of creation. There emerged from his will a man

and a woman, both radiant in pristine white attire.

Brahma addressed the young male: "I am your father, Brahma, the son of

Sri Mahavishnu. You are my maanasaputra – the child of my will."

The man respectfully greeted Brahma: "My pranam to you, father."

Brahma smiled and went on: "Listen carefully, my son. I am known as

Svayambhuva , or the self-manifested. As you have inherited a part of my

essence, I hereby name you Svaayambhuva – son of Brahma. I also confer

on you the illustrious title of 'Manu.' As the primogenitor of the Manu-

group of my maanasaputras, you will be known as Aadi Manu ."

Brahma then turned to woman standing beside Manu. "My dear child, you

are Satarupa Devi. I also name you Yuva Devi, to connote your youth and

extraordinary beauty."

"My grateful respects, father," replied the woman.

Brahma commanded his son: "Svaayambhuva, take Satarupa as your

consort. Through your conjugal union, mankind will emerge and populate

the earth in large numbers. As your descendants, this race of humans will be

known as Maanavas ."

Manu bowed in acknowledgement.

Brahma continued, "The human race will experience four stages of life –

childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age and end with death. Go forth

and fill Bhuloka, the earth, with your progeny."

Manu asked, "Father, where can I find this earth you speak of?"

The Creator explained, "My son, your first step towards accomplishing your

task is the attainment of knowledge. This will enable you to define the laws

by which your descendants should be governed in order to ensure peaceful

and happy lives. Penance is the sole instrument by which you can gain

insight into your prescribed tasks. Take Satarupa and commence your tapas

anywhere you choose. In time, I will enlighten you and show you the

earth."

Having blessed and sent the couple on their way, Brahma sighed in deep

satisfaction. The seeds of creation had been sown and the foundation laid

for the emergence of the Navagrahas in material form. Svaayambhuva

Manu and his other maanasaputras and prajapatis were on course to

perform their prescribed duties. He had fulfilled all the tasks assigned to

him by his Father, Lord Vishnu. Brahma smiled and let himself sink into the

repose of tranquil meditation.

The wheel of time continued on its inexorable, eternal voyage.

Brahma's various maanasaputras united with the spouses created for them.

Atri, Kardama, Bhrigu, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, Angiras and Vasishta

married Anasuya, Devahuti, Khyathi, Bhuthi, Sambhuti, Kshama, Sraddha

and Urja respectively. In fecund effervescence, all the lokas teemed with

progeny.

A daughter, Kala, was born to Kardama prajapati and Devahuti. As

instructed by Brahma, through sage Narada, Kardama gave Kala in

marriage to Mareechi, one of the maanasaputras. A son, Kasyapa, was the

fruit of their union.

Meanwhile, Daksha prajapati fathered five thousand sons, called the

Haryaswaas. This he did, not through connubial relationship with his wife,

Prasooti Devi, but by exercising his will and emulating Vishnu and Brahma

who had created maanasaputras and prajapatis .

Sage Narada, on hearing of Daksha's presumptuous misadventure,

interceded. The sage met the five thousand Haryaswaas and won their

hearts with his wise discourse. He exhorted them to strive after knowledge

and seek to decipher the secrets of the cosmos. Spell bound by Narada's

magnetism, the Haryaswaas set out in search of enlightenment and lost

themselves in their eternal quest.

The grief-stricken Daksha now created another thousand maanasaputras –

the Sabalaawaas. Again, the sagacious Narada employed his powers of

persuasion to dispatch the prajapati ’s new progeny on a quest to uncover

the great secret of the universe.

Daksha, coming to know of Narada's role in the disappearance of his six

thousand maanasaputras, cursed the sage: "Narada, just as you sent my

sons on eternal voyages, so may you be a perpetual wanderer."

Of course, this malediction was merely redundant to Narada, who already

happily shouldered Brahma's curse.

The sorrowful Daksha approached Brahma and complained bitterly about

the loss of his sons and Narada's perfidy.

Brahma placated him, saying, "Daksha, Narada was but an instrument of

my will." Brahma went on to explain his stand: "Sankalpa srishti – creation

by will, is the primary mode of creation. This greatest and noblest form of

creation is the exclusive prerogative of the Supreme God, Mahavishnu, and

myself, as his son. No other hands, including yours, can reap the benefit of

Sankalpa srishti ."

Daksha bowed his head in shame. "Father, I emulated you in my ignorance.

Guide me in the task you have assigned to me."

Brahma said, "Son, listen carefully. There are three other methods of

producing progeny: Sandarsna srishti, in which the mere look of the male

can impregnate the female. This comes into play in the case of the peacock.

In Sparsa srishti, which is observed in fishes, the female conceives at the

mere touch of the male. In the fourth and last method of procreation,

Samparka srishti, offspring are produced by the conjugal, genital union of

male and female bodies. Just as the havis, the ritual offering, is placed in the

pit of the sacrificial fire, the male inserts his seed into the female's womb,

where it fertilizes her egg, develops and takes birth as his progeny."

Brahma paused and looked at Daksha: "It is this intimate method of

creation which establishes blood relationships among beings, and engenders

strong bonds of affection between parents and their offspring. Daksha, I

expect you to adopt Samparka srishti to create progeny with your wife,

Prasooti. Go and fulfill your obligation towards me who endowed you with

life and form."

Daksha bowed in acceptance and saying, "Father, I am now enlightened as

to the right path of creation. I will carry out your decree," he set out to do

his duty.

In due course, Prasooti Devi gave birth to Sati, who became Lord Shiva's

consort. Prasooti then bore Daksha thirteen daughters: Aditi, Diti, Danu,

Vinata, Kadru, Simhika, Krodha, Krura, Kapila, Muni, Anaayu, Kaala and

Praadha. Daksha prajapati gave them in marriage to Kasyapa, the son of

Mareechi and Kala.

Kasyapa and his thirteen wives were blessed with numerous progeny.

Aditi bore Indra and other demigods, called the devas or aadityaas – sons

of Aditi.

The daityas , or sons of Diti, were Hiranyaksha, Hiranyakasipu and Vajraka.

With their negative, taamasic qualities, they became the forebears of the

rakshasas , or demons. Danu gave birth to the daanavas , another demon

clan, which included Mayaasura, Viprachithi, Sambara, Namuchi, Puloma,

Asiloma, Virupaksha and others. The rakshasa clan was further increased

by the sons of Anaayu – Vikshara, Bala, Veera and Vrtasura. Again, the

demon kaalakeyas , Vinaasaka and Krodha, were born to Kaala, while

Krodha, another wife, gave birth to asuras called krodhavasas .

Muni became the mother of Bhimasena, Ugrasena and others of the

gandharva clan. Praadha also bore a number of gandharvas .

Krura bore Suchandra, Hantha and Chandra, while Kasyapa's other wives

delivered birds and animals as their offspring.

As they grew into adulthood, the diametrically opposed innate qualities of

Kasyapa's sons generated an intense rivalry among them. His progeny

coalesced into antagonistic groups based on inherent temperament. Indra

became the leader of the devas and gandharvas, while Hiranyakasipu and

Vrtasura wrested control of the various asura factions.

The deeply perturbed Kasyapa tried to unite his sons in amicable

brotherhood and dispensed knowledge and good counsel impartially to

them all. But his efforts were in vain: increasingly virulent clashes erupted

frequently between the hostile deva and asura factions. Soon, these two

groups became sworn enemies and could no longer live together in

comfortable proximity.

The daityas and other demons set out to establish an independent rakshasa

kingdom in the dense forest. Following their lead, the aadityaas and their

clan proceeded to found their own deva kingdom under Indra's sovereignty.

With heavy hearts, the helpless Kasyapa and his wives saw their warring

progeny go forth into the world.

Desiring luxurious accommodation, the young rakshasas, Hiranyakasipu

and Vrtasura, approached their brother, Maya, and said, "Brother, we

require magnificent residences befitting our position as sovereigns. You are

best suited to build us royal palaces and splendid cities."

Maya immediately undertook penance to propitiate Brahma.

When the Creator appeared before him, Maya said, "Pithamaha, grant me

the knowledge and skill needed to make me the greatest architect of the

cosmos for all eternity."

The curious Brahma asked, "Maya, why do you seek this particular skill?"

"Grandsire, my daitya, daanava and kaalakeya brothers intend to establish

great demon empires. I have been chosen to build grand palaces, fit for

them as sovereigns."

Brahma frowned thoughtfully and cautioned him: "Maya, I need not remind

you that Indra and the other devas are also your siblings. They too plan to

found their own divine empires. I will make you the greatest architect in the

cosmos – on one condition. You must deploy your skill impartially on

behalf of both your rakshasa and deva brethren."

Maya accepted this stipulation and Brahma granted him magical skills

which made him the chief architect of the universe. Maya constructed cities

and palaces, which were incredible marvels of engineering, for both devas

and asuras. The deva and demon empires grew apace and flourished.

The bellicose Hiranyaksha, eldest son of Diti, without the least provocation,

declared war on the deva, gandharva, kinnara and kimpurusha clans.

Armed with a formidable club, the asura went on the rampage and

established his reign of terror over all the lokas. To extend his sovereignty

over the oceans, Hiranyaksha entered the deep sea and violently threshed

the waters with his club, creating tumultuous waves which submerged the

earth.

At this juncture, Svaayambhuva Manu, accompanied by his wife, Satarupa,

had comprehended his assigned task of creating human beings. However, to

his confusion, he could not locate the earth in which he was ordained to

begin his duties.

Manu approached Brahma: "Father, I am prepared to fulfill my ordained

responsibilities. But the earth is nowhere to be found!"

Brahma said, "Manu, in ages past, I created the earth as an appropriate

habitat for the human race. The misguided Hiranyaksha, son of Diti and

Kashyapa, has embarked on a course of destruction and is holding the earth

captive underfoot in the vast ocean. It is beyond my power to reclaim the

earth from the asura . Lord Srihari is our only recourse in this

predicament."

Brahma closed his eyes in fervent prayer. There emerged from his right

nostril a tiny, white boar – this was none other than Sri Mahavishnu coming

to the succor of his creation. In an instant, the miniscule creature

metamorphosed into a colossal beast. Blazing like the sun, the animal dove

into the waters with a thunderous roar, met Hiranyaksha in ferocious

combat and gored him to death. The gigantic boar then rose triumphantly

from the oceans, holding the earth tenderly between its pristine tusks, and

replaced her in her designated place in the cosmos. With this, the Swetha

Varahakalpa – the Age of the White Boar – commenced.

Svaayambhuva Manu and Satarupa began their connubial life together and,

through them, the human race populated the earth.

Part 1

The Birth of

the Navagrahas

The Birth of Surya

L ord Vishnu's destruction of Hiranyaksha incensed the asuras,

particularly his twin brother, Hiranyakasipu, who took a terrible oath: "I

swear to avenge my brother's death by slaying his killer. Vishnu, beware!"

The rakshasa’s all-consuming hatred of Vishnu was shared by Diti, their

mother, who passionately berated Vishnu for his role in her son's death.

Kasyapa consoled his grieving wife saying, "Diti, take heart. Anyone who

poses a threat to the existence of the three worlds must perish at the hands

of Sri Mahavishnu, the universal Father and Protector – this is the

immutable law of the cosmos. Hiranyaksha was indeed fortunate to meet

his death through the Supreme Lord. Believe me, my dear, our son has been

granted redemption from his sins."

Aditi, on her part, was filled with deep remorse at the estrangement of her

sons and their cousins.

Vinata and Kadru tried to console her, while Diti declared: "Sister, just as

fledglings fly away from the nest once they have sprouted their own wings,

so do children depart from home. Look at me: my children have left me; my

beloved son has been killed by Vishnu. Yet, I staunchly bear my pain and

soldier on."

Danu added, "Sister Diti is right. The only path open to us all is to accept

our situation stoically and cope with our grief."

However, Aditi would not be comforted. As she sat in pensive sorrow under

a tree, Kasyapa came to sit beside her. He took her hand in his and said

gently, "Aditi, my wife, it is time you stopped tormenting yourself with the

pain of parting with your children. After all, union and separation is the

unchanging law of nature. Our sons have departed to build their own lives.

This is but fitting and must be accepted gracefully by us all."

Brushing away her tears, Aditi said, "Swami, it is not the physical

separation from our boys which grieves me. My heart bleeds to see our sons

– children of one father and one family – torn apart by envy and hatred, and

filled with mutual hostility."

Kasyapa gave a helpless sigh and remained silent.

Suddenly, Aditi sat up: "Swami, will you grant me a wish?"

Kasyapa said fondly: "Of course, my dear. It is my bounden duty as your

husband."

Aditi said, "Then, bless me with a child who is devoid of hatred, envy,

partiality and unjust discrimination. Grant me a son who holds at heart the

welfare of the entire universe."

Kasyapa calmly replied, "Aditi, I can but remain a father to the children

who are the cause of your sorrow. Only Mahavishnu, the Father of the

universe, can grant your wish."

Aditi exclaimed in wonder, "Mahavishnu, Swami ?"

"Yes, dear. Only the Supreme Being has the power to bless you with a child

of such sterling character."

Aditi frowned in doubt: "Swami , will the great Mahavishnu condescend to

listen to my prayers?"

Kasyapa reassured her with a smile saying, "Aditi, you seek a boon for the

benefit of all the three worlds. God always looks with favor on such

altruism. Confidently begin your penance to Mahavishnu."

Aditi touched Kasyapa's feet in respect and asked his blessings on her

endeavor.

"May Lord Vishnu grant your wish," said Kasyapa solemnly.

Aditi withdrew into the seclusion of a tranquil ashram and immersed

herself in rigorous penance. The intensity of her tapas astounded even

Kasyapa, himself a seasoned practitioner of austerities. Aditi merged with

nature and her entire being pulsated with the holy name of Lord Vishnu. In

an instant, Sri Mahavishnu stood before her.

Moved to tears by the Lord's apparition, Aditi cried, "My God, you have

come!"

Vishnu smiled in benediction: "Aditi, the ardour of your penance has

captured my heart. What do you want from me?"

Aditi, voice hoarse with emotion, said, "Lord, you are the Paramathma:

surely you know my heart's desire?"

Vishnu's eyes twinkled in merriment. "My child, indeed I can read your

mind like an open book. But the voice of my devotees is sweet music to my

ears. Let me hear your wish."

"Bhagavan, this is my humble request: Bless me with a child whose heart is

unsullied by hatred, jealousy and discrimination. Let him dedicate himself

to the betterment of the entire universe."

Mahavishnu smiled and said, "Aditi, your wish is granted. Look up at the

sky."

Aditi gazed skywards in puzzlement.

"Who do you see there, Aditi?"

"Surya Bhagavan is shining among the clouds, my Lord."

"Now look around you, Aditi. What do you see?"

"Lord, I see a thorn bush and a flowering plant."

"Aditi, do the golden sunbeams spread their warm light equally on both the

coarse thorns and the captivating blossoms?"

Realization dawning slowly, Aditi whispered in awe: "Yes, my Lord."

"Surya's impartial gaze falls on all creation with the same benign

magnanimity. Devoid of envy and hatred, he strives perpetually for the

upliftment of the universe. He is the child you seek." Vishnu smiled at the

enthralled Aditi and continued: "Surya is a colossal, luminous orb in the

galaxy. He also resides in my right eye in his ethereal form. This glorious

being will be born as your son."

Aditi exclaimed, "God, I am indeed fortunate!"

"Yes, Aditi. It is my wish that the Navagrahas, who are pure incandescence,

be incarnated in physical form to be worshipped by the human race on

earth. You are blessed to be the instrument of my will. Surya, who is a part

of my essence, will soon be your son. Grant him the reverence which you

accord me."

As Aditi closed her eyes and bowed low in immense gratitude, Mahavishnu

vanished. Aditi ran to give the joyous tidings to her family.

Kasyapa embraced her and said, "Aditi, you are indeed abundantly blessed.

Follow the Supreme Lord's instructions and commence your worship of

Surya at the earliest."

Aditi's twelve sisters excitedly discussed the new developments.

Vinata said, "Surely, Sister Aditi is the luckiest of us all! Lord Vishnu

himself has granted her an audience. And now, Surya is to be born as her

son!"

As the admiring group clustered round Aditi, Diti sniggered aloud and said,

"Hah! Has it perhaps slipped Aditi's mind that she has a god-like husband

who can grant her progeny at will? Why would anyone choose to go

through the tribulation of penance to propitiate another god? It appears that

Aditi is a glutton for punishment!"

Danu, Simhika and Kaala laughed and clapped their hands in glee at Diti's

mockery.

Kasyapa frowned darkly and angrily reproached his wife: "Diti, your taunt

only demonstrates your own arrogance and your abject ignorance of Lord

Sri Mahavishnu's greatness. He is the eternal Father of the cosmos: it is he

who created Brahma, who in turn gave life to your father, Daksha prajapati,

and my father, sage Mareechi. When the resplendent Surya is also none

other than Vishnu himself, it is blasphemous to belittle the worship of Surya

Bhagavan !"

Aditi quickly intervened, saying, "Swami , forgive Diti – it is only her

innocence which makes her speak thus."

Diti spat out at her: "Sister Aditi, I do not need you to be my champion! I

can take care of myself, thank you!" Diti continued in a voice dripping with

sarcasm, "Oh yes! Vishnu is our forefather. Obviously, that is why he

decided to assume the form of a wild pig and kill Hiranyaksha, his great

granddaughter, Diti's, dearest son. What an affectionate grandfather he is!"

Diti sniffed in disdain and stomped off, followed by her coterie of

supporters. Vinata, Kadru and Muni remained protectively around Aditi.

Vinata clasped Aditi on her shoulder and said, "Sister, ignore Diti's

outburst. A great miracle waits to be manifested through you. As our

husband advises, start your obeisance to Surya."

At an auspicious time designated by Kasyapa, Aditi embarked on her

worship. Oblivious to the pangs of hunger and thirst, and the passage of

time, she immersed her entire being in single-minded meditation on the sun

god. Her devotion elevated her to a spiritual plane in which time, space and

causation ceased to be relevant. As she hovered in a transcendental state

beyond darkness and light, a sweet voice penetrated her consciousness.

"Mother!"

Aditi stirred.

"Mother!"

Again, the mellifluous voice clamoured for attention. Aditi emerged from

her trance and opened her eyes. There before her was a whirling, radiant orb

of light. Aditi's entire being was swamped by a mystical tide of joy.

She whispered in tremulous tones, "Who – who are you?"

The same honeyed voice emanated from the luminescent disc: "Mother, it is

me, Surya. You reached out to me through the silent yearning of your

psyche and I have answered your call!"

Aditi exclaimed in delight: "Surya Bhagavan! You heard my prayers!"

"I share your longing for me to be your son. Mother, let me be cocooned in

the snug warmth of your womb."

Aditi, moved to tears by the tenderness of these words, stood speechless, as

the adorable voice again echoed from the brilliant sphere: "Cradle me

gently in your lap, mother, and feed me the milk of sweet nourishment and

divine bliss."

Voice choked with emotion, Aditi said, "O my divine son – dearest child of

my heart! How fortunate I am!"

"I am equally fortunate, mother. Return to the ashram and await my arrival.

I will not be long."

The radiant orb disappeared. Aditi looked round her in awe. It struck her

that she had gazed at the blinding disc of light without once blinking her

eyes. Nor had she paid obeisance to Surya Bhagavan! Her pang of remorse

was quickly extinguished by a tender smile. She thought, 'Never mind –

after all, I am his mother!'

Aditi hurried back to the ashram , where she soon showed signs of growing

pregnancy. The presence of the god of light in her womb was reflected in

the resplendent glow which cloaked her body. Her face blossomed like the

luminescent full moon. She bore the weight of her pregnancy sedately and

joyfully continued to perform her duties to Kasyapa.

Observing her moving heavily about her chores, Vinata said, "Sister Aditi,

it is not right that you take so much upon yourself in your delicate state. Let

us take care of our husband."

Kadru too spoke out in support of Vinata: "Yes, sister. Rest assured that we

will attend to our lord's every need."

Kasyapa himself condoned their stand saying, "Yes, Aditi. When you carry

Surya, the god of light, in your sacred womb, it is not appropriate that you

continue to perform menial tasks like a servant. Let Vinata and Kadru

relieve you."

Vinata and Kadru served Kasyapa with single-minded devotion. Late one

night, Kasyapa awoke from a deep slumber to find the two women gently

pressing his legs in the darkness.

He exclaimed in surprise, "Vinata and Kadru, are you not asleep yet?!"

His wives replied in unison: "Swami , serving you is our best repose."

Greatly move by their selfless devotion, Kasyapa smiled affectionately at

them and said, "Your dedication warms my heart. I wish to grant each of

you a boon. Name your desire."

Elated at this unexpected bounty, the generous Vinata said, "Sister Kadru,

make your wish first."

Kadru pondered for a moment. Then, "Swami , grant me a thousand sons,

with long, gleaming, limbless torsos. Let them slither lissomely across the

ground …"

Kasyapa interrupted her: "Kadru, stop! Do you know what you are asking

for?"

Kadru smiled in calm confidence. "Indeed, my lord, I am clear that I wish

to bear naga kumaras as my sons."

Kasyapa remonstrated with her: "Kadru, I beg you to reconsider: your wish

for serpent sons is bizarre, to say the least. Let me grant you another gift."

However, Kadru stood her ground and staunchly declared, "Swami , this is

the only boon I ask of you."

Kasyapa sighed resignedly and said, "Well, my wife, if that is what you

truly wish, so be it." He turned to Vinata. "And you, Vinata, what is the

boon you desire from me?"

Vinata replied solemnly, "Lord, grant me two sons who will surpass Kadru's

serpent progeny in valour and might."

Kasyapa inclined his head in blessing, "So be it, Vinata."

Deeply perturbed by the turn of events, Kasyapa hurried to Satyaloka and

sought Brahma's counsel.

"Revered grandsire, what does Kadru's boon portend? I am filled with

dread."

Brahma reassured him, saying, "Kasyapa, fear not. Remember that it is the

supreme will of Sri Mahavishnu which presides over all the cosmos. The

Lord has ordained that, in addition to the various devas, gandharvas and

asuras , you and your wives will also beget miscellaneous other beings like

birds, animals, cattle and reptiles."

"But, Bhagavan … " Brahma interrupted the agitated Kasyapa with a

soothing wave of his hand.

"I understand the reservation you have in producing serpent offspring

whose venom will pose a fatal hazard to all other forms of life. But, calm

yourself. I will duly teach you the means of saving the victims of snake

bite. Go in peace and fulfill your wives' boons."

The relieved Kasyapa bowed before the Creator and returned to his ashram

One auspicious day, in the predawn hour, Kasyapa stood knee-deep in the

calm waters of the river, immersed in meditation. Facing the east, he

performed his ritual morning ablution.

At the same time, Aditi's twelve sisters gathered to attend to her

confinement. As the labour advanced, the mother's birth pangs were

miraculously experienced, not as pain, but as pleasure!

The glow of dawn painted the sky in soft pastel shades of red and gold and

the entire ashram was enveloped in radiant warmth. Just as the rays of the

rising sun flared above the horizon, Surya, foremost of the Navagrahas ,

took physical form as the virtuous Aditi's infant son. Lord Vishnu's decree

came to pass. This was truly a red letter day in the annals of the infinite

cosmos.

Even as the three worlds celebrated the sun god's advent, in Vaikuntha – the

Abode of Bliss, the reclining Lord Vishnu sat up abruptly and gazed

thoughtfully into the distance.

Sri Mahalakshmi, beauty incarnate, looked up questioningly at her consort.

"Swami, your mind is far away."

Turning His serene face towards her, Lord Vishnu held out his hands:

"Lakshmi, come here and tell me what you see in my right eye."

Lakshmi approached him and gazed into the profound depths of his right

eye. Smiling playfully, she said, "The only thing I see is my own image

reflected in the lotus petal of your vision, my Lord."

Lord Vishnu gently shook his head in disagreement, the gleam of gold from

his crocodile-shaped makara kundalas rippling across his exquisite blue

cheeks. He said, "No, my beloved, you know very well that your place is in

my heart."

Lakshmi's voice trembled with emotion: "Yes, my Lord, I am Vishnupriya. I

am ensconced in your heart for all time. I pervade every atom of your body.

We are inextricably merged - You and I are but parts of one indivisible

whole."

Lord Vishnu nodded in benign agreement. "Well said, dearest. Our sublime

union transcends all reason and emotion: it is beyond interpretation."

Lakshmi smiled. "Well, my Lord, now that I accept that I am not in your

right eye, tell me who is the fortunate one who resides there."

Lord Vishnu said, "Lakshmi, Surya abides in my right eye in his ethereal

form."

Mahalakshmi exclaimed: "Of course, my Lord! I know that you guard the

sun in your right eye and the moon in your left. However, I must admit that

losing myself in ecstasy in the fathomless depths of your lotus- eye

sometimes makes me forgetful!"

Mahavishnu chuckled and continued, "Lakshmi, I have glad tidings for you.

Surya has taken birth in physical form."

Lakshmi smiled mischievously. "In that case, Swami , Surya is no longer in

your eye. You were wrong earlier!"

"No, my queen. Surya will continue to reside in my eye for all eternity."

"Is that so? But, if Surya is born elsewhere, and also remains in your eye,

his radiance will be diffused – he will lose much of his luster."

"My dear, let me demonstrate the fallacy of your argument. See the two

lamps before us. Use one lamp to light the other."

Lakshmi laughed. "My Lord, both the lamps are already burning merrily!"

"Look again, dearest. One of them has deliberately snuffed out its own light

– it looks like it yearns to be lit by your lovely hand!"

Lakshmi looked suspiciously, first at her consort's twinkling eyes, and then

at the now unlit lamp. With infinite grace, she picked up the burning lamp

and lit the others' wick. Lord Vishnu came to stand close behind her.

Encircling her within his arms, he bent to rest his chin gently on her

shoulder.

"Now, observe the lamps carefully, my love. You have used the flame of

one to light the other. Has the first lamp diminished in radiance?"

"No, my Lord."

Sri Mahavishnu led her to seshatalpa – the serpent bed. Sitting beside her,

he cupped her glowing face tenderly in his hands and said, "Although one

lamp was lit with the flame of the other, both lamps burn with undimmed

brilliance – like your sparkling eyes, my beloved!"

The Lord smiled and continued: "The light of the lamp is inexhaustible.

Similarly, our original divine essence is infinite – it is a limitless avyaya

form of the Godhead. When we choose to assume various avatars , the

original moolarupa wholly retains its power and dimension."

Vishnu went on: "In the ages to come, you and I will take numerous

avatars. Through all these incarnations, our original forms will remain

unaltered, without losing an iota of sublimity."

Mahalakshmi wondered: "So, Surya, who is shining here ethereally in your

right eye, is also shining undimmed somewhere else in a gross form!"

"That is the inexplicable truth of my creation, Lakshmi," said the Lord.

Lakshmi leaned forward in interest. "Tell me, Swami , where and to whom

has Surya been born?"

"At the start of creation, I decreed that the Navagrahas, who reside in space

as spiritual beings, should assume gross bodies so that the human race can

gain merit through their worship. My will is now taking concrete shape with

Surya's birth as the son of the virtuous Kasyapa and his consort, Aditi."

"Your will is supreme, my Lord. And when will the other eight grahas take

their avatars ?"

Vishnu's eyes sparkled as he teased, "There is a time and place for

everything, my queen."

Lakshmi rose indignantly, but bit back her spirited resort as the familiar

"Narayana! Narayana!" echoed through Vaikuntha.

As always, sage Narada followed hot on the heels of his fervent chant and

bowed in deep reverence before the divine couple.

Smiling in benediction, Lord Vishnu asked, "So, Narada, how are you?"

"In the best of health and spirits, Bhagavan – thanks to you! What have I to

fear when protected by the armor of your grace? After all, you shower your

blessings unconditionally on your devotees, as Nirhetuka Krpa."

Mahavishnu laughed appreciatively. "Narada, your words remain as sweet

as your melodies."

"My Lord, you gifted me this mahathi as soon as I commenced my sacred

yagna of singing the glory of your divine name. Words and music are fused

in my being – as long as both my tongue and my lute are but instruments of

the chant, 'Narayana!" no harm can come to me."

Mahalakshmi, familiar with the workings of the sage, smiled. "So, Narada,

what brings you hurrying here?"

"Mother, I bear tidings of great import!"

Vishnu asked in amusement: "And you think this breaking news has not yet

reached our ears?"

"Narayana! You are omniscient! But, surely, you will not deny Narada, your

humble devotee, the pleasure of being your herald?"

Vishnu laughed and said, "Narada, it is always a pleasure to hear you! Go

ahead and make your announcement."

Narada bowed in acknowledgement and said, "My Lord, the pious lady

Aditi has given birth to a son. The father, Kasyapa, plans to hold the

naming ceremony at his ashram ."

"That is indeed good to hear, Narada. Go and invite chaturmukha Brahma,

Lord Shiva, Indra and others to join the celebration. Let the universe rejoice

at the birth of Surya, the harbinger of happiness."

With a joyous, "Narayana!" Narada hurried to spread the good tidings.

Kasyapa's ashram wore a festive look, as a resplendent celestial host filled

its humble precincts. Lord Vishnu, Lord Shiva and Brahma stood apart with

Mahalakshmi, Satidevi and Saraswati. Sage Narada, accompanied by Indra,

paid obeisance to the divine couples. An unceasing tide of devas and

maanasaputras, together with their spouses, joined them in homage.

Kasyapa bowed before the Supreme God, saying, "Bhagavan, our son is the

precious gift of your grace to Aditi and me. Bless him with a name of your

choosing."

Lord Vishnu said, "Kasyapa, my gift belongs not only to you and your wife,

but to all animate and inanimate creation. Your son is the incarnation of

Surya, the foremost of the Navagrahas. He will rule the planets as he moves

through the twelve signs of the zodiac."

Vishnu paused at the puzzled Kasyapa's interruption: "Lord, what are these

twelve signs of the zodiac?"

Brahma explained, "Kasyapa, Sri Mahavishnu has willed that all the stars

which shine in the heavenly firmament form constellations in the shape of

Mesham, Vrhsabham, Mithunam, Karkatakam, Simham, Kanya, Thula,

Vrichikam, Dhanas, Makaram, Kumbham and Meenam – corresponding to

the ram, the bull, the twins, the crab, the lion, the virgin, the scales, the

scorpion, the bow, the goat, the water pot and the fish."

Lord Vishnu continued, "Your son, Surya, will move through these dozen

signs of the zodiac over a period of twelve months, or one human year. He

will reside for one month in every sign, or raasi. In each raasi, he will be

known by a different name – these twelve names will be collectively called

the Dwaadasa Aadityas."

Vishnu turned to his fellow gods: "ParamaShiva, Brahma and I will now

pronounce Surya's names."

Lord Shiva smiled and nodded in agreement: "Mahavishnu, we await your

lead."

Aditi came forward and handed the infant to Vishnu with great reverence.

The Lord smiled down at the gurgling baby. Mahalakshmi then cradled the

child in her own arms, tenderly kissed his radiant forehead, and placed him

gently on an elevated dais.

Vishnu closed his eyes and intoned "Om !"

Even as the sound of the primordial mantra lingered in the air, the Lord

looked down at the child and pronounced the first name: "Dhaata!" The

onlookers held their breaths in wonder as a second child, identical to the

original baby, appeared on the dais. Before they could release their

collective breath, Vishnu announced, "Aaryama!" A third baby lay before

their amazed eyes! Vishnu continued – "Mithra!" "Sakra!" With each name,

a new infant materialized on the dais.

Lord Vishnu then turned to Brahma and beckoned him forward.

The Creator intoned, "Varuna! Amsumanta! Bhaga! Vivasvan!"

Lord Shiva stepped forward in his turn and proclaimed, "Pusha! Savitru!

Twashta! Vishnu!"

Each name pealed with bell-like clarity in the hushed atmosphere. The

spell-bound assembly gazed in awe as a new child appeared on the platform

with the pronouncement of each name. When Lord Shiva announced the

final name, "Vishnu!" a dazzling array of twelve identical, beautiful infants

lay side by side before them.

The onlookers' excited murmurs subsided when Narada strummed his lute.

As the sage melodiously chanted Surya's twelve names: "Dhaata! Aaryama!

Mithra! Sakra! Varuna! Amsumanta! Bhaga! Vivasvan! Pusha! Savitru!

Twashta! Vishnu!" every one at the august gathering showered the infants

with fragrant blossoms and yellow rice grains, as the ritual akshata for a

long life.

Mareechi, Kasyapa's father, paid obeisance to Vishnu, Shiva and Brahma

and said, "The Holy Trinity has blessed our Surya with auspicious names. I

am indeed fortunate to be the grandfather of the god of light."

Lord Vishnu smiled at him. "Mareechi, your daughter-in-law, Aditi,

performed her penance with the noble purpose of obtaining a child who

would treat all creation with impartial munificence. As the result of her

altruism, she is blessed to be the mother of the king of the grahas. Aditya,

the son of Aditi, will be the shining sovereign of the Navagrahas and will

be worshipped by all."

"So be it!" Shiva and Brahma intoned in unison.

Aditi gazed fondly on the twelve adorable infants, her heart overflowing

with love. She longed to gather them all into her arms and let them suckle

to their tiny stomachs' content. Even as she reached out to embrace them,

her twelve babies merged into one! Aditi cradled her radiant son in her lap

and lifted him tenderly to her breast, crooning a lullaby, a beatific smile

lighting up her face.

The charming infant filled Kasyapa's household with joy. Aditi and her

sisters lavished all their care and affection on the growing child. In no time,

Surya was leading them on merry chases, as he crawled energetically about

the ashram . To their wonder, a nimbus of light constantly illuminated the

ground beneath the child.

One day, as Aditi wove a garland of flowers for the morning worship,

Simhika came running to her with Surya in her arms. Aditi looked up at the

urgency in her voice.

"Sister Aditi, look – the child's body is burning! I am unable to bear the heat

– take him."

Aditi took her son and said, "No, Simhika, I can find nothing out of the

ordinary in his warmth."

Simhika insisted, "No! My hands are still flaming with his touch!"

Hearing her cry, Kasyapa came and felt his son's brow. Frowning, he said,

"Aditi, Simhika is right – Surya's body is excessively hot. It must be a

fever."

As the days passed, Surya's high temperature persisted, although he

remained as active and cheerful as ever. Kasyapa and Aditi, worried over

this abnormal development, were clueless as to its cause or remedy.

As they fretted one day, Vinata ran to them in excitement: "Swami , sage

Narada is here!"

Kasyapa hurried out and greeted the distinguished visitor with folded hands.

"Narayana!" Narada blessed Kasyapa with his invocation of the Supreme

God.

Kasyapa respectfully seated the sage on a mat of darbha grass and said,

"Maharshi , we have missed your darshan these past months – you last

blessed us with your presence at Surya's naming ceremony."

"Yes, Kasyapa, I have not passed this way for quite a while. By the way,

how is the child?"

Kasyapa sighed heavily. "Swami, I must confess that I am very anxious

about Surya. He has a persistent fever. In spite of all the remedies we have

tried, his temperature remains abnormally high."

"Is that so? Take me to the boy." Sage Narada followed Kasyapa into the

ashram, where he found Surya engaged in boisterous play, with Aditi

panting to keep pace with her son's boundless energy.

Chuckling, Narada looked around him in surprise. He remarked, "The very

air of the ashram seems to possess a strange sparkle!"

Kasyapa replied, "Yes, Maharshi – right from the day of his birth, Surya has

been surrounded by a brilliant halo of light."

Narada gently picked up the lively child and gazed intently into his

upturned face. To Kasyapa's surprise, the sage did not comment on the heat

emanating from Surya. Narada seated himself on the raised dais in front of

the house, holding the boy in his lap. He looked up at Kasyapa and Aditi

and smiled, "So, our little beam of sunshine is spreading light everywhere,

is he?"

Aditi said, "Yes, Swami . As he grows, his splendor increases in intensity."

"That is as it should be, Aditi. After all, the dissemination of light is Surya's

innate trait."

Kasyapa agreed: "Yes, Maharshi , that's true."

"Narayana!" exclaimed the sage with a laugh. "Well, Kasyapa, if light is an

inherent part of Surya, surely you will agree that heat is also an inseparable

attribute of his being?"

Realization dawned on Kasyapa. "Maharshi, you mean…"

"Yes, Kasyapa, the heat which radiates from Surya is natural – not a fever,

as you fear. Remember that Surya is the dispenser of heat and light, both

essential for the survival of the universe."

Aditi and Kasyapa sighed in relief as the weight of anxiety lifted from their

hearts. Narada handed the child to Aditi, who carried him into the house.

The sage turned to Kasyapa. "It is time to commence Surya's education.

You will be his guru. Teach him the six angas – siksha (pronunciation),

vyaakarana (grammar), chandas (prosody), nirukta (explanation of obscure

terms), jyothisham (astronomy) and kalpam (religious rites)."

Kasyapa bowed in agreement.

Narada continued: "Let him learn the four Vedas. Impart to him the

scriptural knowledge of Meemansa , Nyaaya , Sabda , Dharma , Artha ,

Ayurveda and Dhanurveda, and the Puranas as delineated in the Sastras."

Kasyapa could not hide his surprise.

Narada smiled at him and said, "Surya is destined to be the universal

benefactor. Mastery of all the above eighteen vidyas is essential to equip

him for this role. Kasyapa, your son will excel you in the acquisition,

containment and dissemination of wisdom."

"So be it, Maharshi. Every father wishes to see the son to excel the parent."

Kasyapa fell silent and then heaved a sigh of remorse. "Maharshi , my heart

continues to ache when I consider that I have failed in my duty as a father

towards my other sons."

"Narayana!" Narada exclaimed. "Kasyapa, it was the will of my revered

father, Brahma, that your sons establish the deva and daanava kingdoms.

Although they are mutually antagonistic, they live happily in their

independent realms."

"Maharshi , does this mean that you have visited my sons recently?"

"Yes, Kasyapa. In my role of celestial courier, I wander from one end of the

cosmos to the other. Of course, keeping abreast of the workings of the rival

factions in one of my priorities!"

"I am very happy to hear this, Maharshi . Please keep my sons in your

care."

"Narayana! That is beyond my brief! Leave them to their own devices,

Kasyapa. What must be, will be." Narada exhorted the dejected Kasyapa:

"Come, Kasyapa, take heart from your good fortune in being Surya's guru.

Better to impart wisdom to one worthy son than to educate a thousand

undeserving ones."

Kasyapa, soothed by Narada's wise counsel, commenced Surya's education.

With his vast intelligence and willingness to learn, Surya mastered the

eighteen vidyas in an incredibly short period of time. The light of

knowledge added extra luster to his naturally radiant countenance. His

impartial treatment of all creatures earned him universal respect. As Surya

reached adolescence, his statuesque physique, enhanced by his charming

smile, endowed him with the exquisite beauty of the golden dawn.

One day, Aditi sat on the ashram's raised dais, watching her beloved son in

the distance. Kasyapa, returning from the forest, emptied a basket of

flowers and twigs on the darbha grass mat and sat beside her.

Looking at Surya in rapt adoration, Aditi said, "Swami , how handsome our

son is!"

Kasyapa smiled fondly at the proud mother. "Yes, Aditi, Surya's beauty is

indeed divine."

"I wonder which lucky girl is going to be his wife!"

Kasyapa started to reply, but stopped short as the lotus buds in the heap of

flowers beside him suddenly unfurled their flushed petals and bloomed into

renewed life. He looked up and smiled to see Surya standing before him.

"Father, give me the twigs. I will prepare them for the sacrificial fire."

Surya took the sticks and went indoors, his parents' affectionate glances

following him.

"Narayana! Narayana!"

They turned expectantly at the call. It was Narada, strumming his lute in

accompaniment to his holy chant. Kasyapa and Aditi rose hurriedly and

welcomed the sage with folded hands, pressing their warm hospitality on

him.

Narada settled down on the dais and observed, "As I walked among the

clouds, your son Surya was visible even from a great distance as a dazzling

pillar of light. His beauty grows by the day!"

Kasyapa laughed with fatherly pride. "Maharshi , Aditi and I were just

commenting on Surya's extraordinary good looks."

"Well, did you also discuss his coming marriage?" asked Narada.

Aditi replied, "Swami, that is not in our hands. God has to will it."

"God has already willed it, Aditi. A few days back, I saw a beautiful girl,

suitable for Surya in every way."

"Swami ! Really? Tell me all about her - who is she? Where did you see

her?"

Narada laughed at Aditi's excitement and continued: "I suppose you know

Viswakarma?"

Kasyapa nodded: "He is the divine architect Prabhaasavasu's son, right?"

"Correct, Kasyapa. Viswakarma is the son of Varastri and Prabhaasavasu,

the last of the eight Vasus. Their eldest daughter, the beautiful Samjna,

seems to be made for Surya."

Aditi turned to Kasyapa. "Swami, maybe you should approach Viswakarma

and Varastri?"

Narada smiled. "I have already sounded them out in this matter, Aditi.

Prabhaasavasu and his wife have heard glowing reports about Surya, not

only from various individuals, but also from the four mouths of Lord

Brahma himself. They are eager for this match."

Kasyapa said thoughtfully, "We will have to ascertain the girl's wishes."

Narada's eyes twinkled. "That too has been done, Kasyapa! I gave her

parents an account of Surya's sterling character and beauty and then

repeated it to Samjna in private. She did not have to utter a word - her

glowing eyes said it all!"

Aditi laughed in merriment. "Oh, Maharshi! You have come to us with

everything arranged!"

Kasyapa joined in her mirth. "Well, Aditi, that is sage Narada's inimitable

style! He arranged our marriage in the same way." He smiled at his wife in

fond remembrance.

"Kasyapa, if you want further assurance, let me tell you that I also

overheard Samjna expressing her eagerness to wed Surya." A mischievous

smile flitted across Narada's face. "Of course, I just happened to standing

behind a hedge in the garden when she confided in her mother!"

Kasyapa chuckled in delight. "Maharshi, I think it would be best if you

spoke to Surya about Samjna. After all, you are the one who can give him a

first-hand account of the girl's charm and beauty."

Narada agreed saying, "Indeed, that is the very purpose of my visit. I will

then arrange for Viswakarma to visit you."

With Surya's consent, arrangements for the marriage were made. Surya and

Samjna were wed in a glittering ceremony at Viswakarma's palatial abode,

in the presence of the Trimurtis – Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara, and

their consorts. All the attendant devas, maanasaputras, prajapatis and sages

showered the new couple with blessings for long, happy lives and many

children.

At Sri Mahavishnu's suggestion, Viswakarma built a beautiful palace for his

beloved daughter and son-in-law. Made of pure gold, it emblazoned the vast

reaches of outer space.

Surya and his new bride took their leave of Kasyapa and Aditi. Surya bid

farewell to his aunts, assuring them that he would always answer their

summons instantaneously.

Fondly embracing his weeping mother, Surya said in solace, "Mother, it is

my duty to fulfill Sri Mahavishnu's will."

Kasyapa gently led Aditi away, reminding her: "Aditi, my dear, every

circumstance of Surya's life has been ordained by the Lord. When you

asked for a son who would be the universal benefactor, you put yourself

above the natural self-interests of a mother. Wherever he may be, Surya's

presence will always light up our lives."

Surya and Samjna were flooded with an immeasurable tide of love for each

other.

To Surya, every move of Samjna's lissome body was an enchanting dance;

her doe-eyed glances became searing darts of love; the seductive swaying

of her long, raven-black braid made his eyes light up in pleasure; her ruby

lips smiled in tender promise of things to come.

Samjna entered the bed chamber with her graceful, swan-like gait. At every

step, her anklets beat a sensuous tattoo on the gleaming floor. Seeing Surya

reclining on the couch, her heart melted with affection and a shy smile

played about her parted lips. She softly closed the golden doors and snuffed

out the lamp on its stand: the brilliance which constantly emanated from

Surya made its light redundant. She seated herself beside her husband.

Head bowed shyly, she said tremulously, "Swami , I want something from

you. Will you grant my wish?"

Heart blazing with affection, Surya tilted up her chin with a tender hand and

said, "Samjna, my beloved, all you have to do is ask. It will be yours."

She gazed adoringly into his radiant eyes. "Swami, I want three children

from you – two boys and a girl."

Surya laughed: "So clear on that, my love?"

She flushed, but replied spiritedly: "Yes, my lord."

Surya gathered her into his arms.

Samjna caressed his broad chest and whispered, "Swami, I adore the touch

of your body. Its intoxicating warmth kindles the fire of passion in my

heart."

Surya held her close against him. "And you, my love, are a varavarnini ."

"And what is that, my lord?"

Surya's lambent voice was a caress in itself. "A varavarnini is a beautiful

woman whose precious body blesses her husband with life-giving warmth

in winter and soothing coolness in summer."

An exquisite flush spread over Samjna's delicate cheeks.

Surya continued with a smile: "Samjna, you are not only my varavarnini ,

but also my varaaroha ."

His wife looked up in mock sternness – "Yet another unknown term, my

lord … and what does this one mean?"

Surya erased the charming frown on her face with his gentle fingers and

laughed. "This time, your long braid is best qualified to give you an answer

– after all, it is more intimate with the contours of your beautiful hips than I

am!"

In reply, Samjna hid her blushing face against her husband's chest.

The Birth of Chandra

N irvikalpananda paused and looked at his disciples. They remained

motionless, unwilling to stop the flow of their master's captivating

chronicle.

Nirvikalpananda smiled and continued. "Well, my sons, I can see that you

are ready to hear about the advent of the second of the grahas – Chandra."

"Yes, master," the four young men chorused eagerly.

"Chandra is also known as Aatreya, or son of Atri. Do you remember Sage

Atri?"

Chidananda quickly replied, "Yes, master. You mentioned that he was one

of Brahma's maanasaputras ."

"Excellent! Then you will also recall that he married Anasuya. Who was

Anasuya?"

Sadananda urged him on: "Please tell us, master."

‘Anasuya was the daughter of Brahma's maanasaputra, Kardama, and his

wife, Devahuti. Anasuya was a chaste and virtuous wife to sage Atri. For

many years, they remained childless. The miraculous birth of Anasuya's

sons is a wonderful tale."

So saying, Nirvikalpananda started on the second part of his narrative.

Sage Atri returned to his ashram with the grass and twigs necessary for his

ritual worship. He gratefully accepted the cup of cool water Anasuya held

out to him and smiled at his wife. No answering smile erased the lines of

despair on her face.

‘Anasuya, my dear, what's wrong?"

Anasuya looked up at him in sorrow. "Swami, you know my heart's desire."

Atri sighed helplessly and gazed into his wife's lovely face. The vermillion

tilak was an autumn moon on the shapely crescent of her forehead. Her

luminous eyes were dark pools under the delicately arched eyebrows. Her

lips were tender, crimson petals. The gracefully draped saree emphasized

her slim waist … Atri stopped short: the same slender waist reminded him

that it was yet to bear the precious weight of pregnancy.

"Swami, what are you looking at?"

Atri emerged from his reverie and chuckled. "Now, Anasuya, as a faithful

husband, which other woman can I look at, except my own wife? My

dearest, you grow more beautiful by the day!"

A fleeting smile appeared on Anasuya's face, only to be engulfed by sorrow

once more.

"Swami , without bearing fruit, beauty is but an empty husk." She paused. "I

have faithfully performed every rite and propitiated all the gods in order to

be blessed with children. Tell me . what more can I do?"

Atri reached out to her and held her close. "My love, now you can serve

your husband."

She looked up at him questioningly.

Atri continued: ‘Anasuya, let me remind you: when Brahma created me as

his maanasaputra, he decreed that we would have abundant progeny. His

promise will not be in vain. We will be blessed with children when the time

is ripe. Let us be patient."

Anasuya's eyes gleamed with the faint stirrings of hope. "Swami, do you

believe this?"

"Of course, dearest," Atri said firmly. "Your virtue is peerless. God always

grants a virtuous wife's wishes."

There was a trace of sarcasm in Anasuya's voice as she replied, "Swami, I

sometimes fear that suffering is the only lot of a virtuous wife."

Atri exclaimed, "What makes you talk like this, Anasuya?"

"Swami , earlier this morning, Seelavathi was here."

‘Ah … you mean Ugrasravas' wife?"

"Yes, my lord. Seelavathi's virtue and loyalty to her husband are unmatched.

She truly lives up to her name – the chaste one!"

"I have heard that Ugrasravas is a man corroded by evil in both body and

soul."

Anasuya's voice trembled with pity. "Yes, Swami . Seelavathi is young and

exceptionally beautiful. Her husband is an old man, afflicted by leprosy.

Yet, she serves him as if he were god."

"The poor lady. It seems that Ugrasravas is possessed by the rage of despair.

I was told that he is so eaten up with jealousy that he insists on

accompanying his wife when she goes begging."

"Yes, Swami – she carries his rank-smelling body in a basket on her head

and ekes out a living on the meagre alms she receives." Anasuya continued

bitterly, "Now, Swami , I'm sure you will agree that virtuous wives get more

than their fair share of trials and tribulations!"

Atri attempted to cheer up his wife. "Well, Anasuya. We know that precious

gold must endure the heat of the furnace and the blows of the hammer

before it is transformed into a beautiful ornament."

"So, do you think Seelavathi will become a lovely ornament?"

Atri smiled. "Not only Seelavathi, my dearest … Anasuya too!"

Seelavathi draped a fresh saree around her thin body and applied the

vermillion tilak on her forehead. She picked up the string of fragrant

flowers a kind lady had given her earlier in the day and braided it into her

long plait.

A coarse shout assaulted her ears. "Woman! Where are you?"

She hurried to her husband. "Here I am, Swami."

Seated on a rough hempen bedstead in a corner of the mean hut, Ugrasravas

glared balefully at his wife. ‘And may I know whose eyes you seek to

please with your fresh flowers and elegant saree ?"

Seelavathi blanched at his tone. "Swami , we have been begging on the

streets since dawn. My clothes were drenched with sweat and grime. You

abhor bad odor. So, I took a bath and …"

Ugrasravas cut her off with a curt, "Enough of your stories! I'm starving.

Will you give me my food or persist in wasting time with your blathering?"

"Just give me a moment, my lord." Seelavathi returned with a makeshift

lamp – a rag wick floating is a small saucer of oil. As she used her hand to

shield the feeble flame from the wind, the light illuminated her glowing

face, highlighting its exquisite features. Ugrasravas drew in his breath

sharply at this vision of his wife's ethereal beauty, as Seelavathi gracefully

bent to light a larger lamp near the bed. Even devoid of any ornamentation,

her loveliness shone through her like an inner flame.

Yes, his wife was indeed beautiful, Ugrasravas thought. An involuntary sigh

escaped his lips. It was his misfortune that Seelavathi's very devotion had

blighted any chance of his loving her. The extreme purity of her blind love,

devoid of passion, had repelled him right from the start of their married life.

Ugrasravas shook his head and turned his greedy attention to the food

Seelavathi placed before him. Helplessly dependent on his wife, he waited

impatiently, scowling at her. As tenderly as she would a little child,

Seelavathi fed him small mouthfuls from the plate.

Between bites, Ugrasravas shouted, "What is this, woman? Am I a baby to

be fooled with tiny morsels of food? I suppose you are doing this

deliberately to blunt the edge of my appetite: you sly creature – you plan to

gorge on the remaining food yourself!"

Seelavathi calmly said, "Swami , you are teasing me - you know very well

that I feel no hunger till you have eaten your fill."

Ugrasravas roared angrily, "Then feed me bigger portions." Continuing to

scold his hapless wife between hungry mouthfuls, he soon finished his

supper. He then asked, "Is there more food?"

Seelavathi sadly replied, "I'm afraid that is all the food we received as alms

today, Swami."

Belching loudly, Ugrasravas shouted at her: "Ever since I had the

misfortune of marrying you, I have been fated to endure the pangs of

unappeased hunger. You disgust me!"

Seelavathi silently removed his plate. Coming back, she said: "Please lie

down and rest, Swami. Let me massage your legs."

Ugrasravas looked up suspiciously. "Why such eagerness to put me to bed?

Have you planned a little moonlight rendezvous after lulling me to sleep?"

"Swami ! Please! You know that you are everything to me. And today is the

night of the new moon …"

Ugrasravas barked furiously. "Oh, shut up!" He continued thoughtfully: "By

the way, I notice that you always hurry past a particular house without

stopping to ask for alms. Why do you do that?"

"I prefer not to beg there," Seelavathi said quietly.

"Why, you fool – that is obviously the home of a wealthy person."

"Swami , that house belongs to a prostitute. It would be sinful to receive

alms from her."

Ugrasravas sat up in excitement. "What! I have sometimes glimpsed a

charming woman through the windows. Is she the prostitute you are talking

about?"

"Yes, my lord …"

Ugrasravas wondered aloud: "Oh, such a lovely face! And a body almost

divine in its beauty!"

Seelavathi said soothingly, "Swami , you must rest. Forget about that

woman."

But her husband was lost in a miasma of lust. He murmured softly, "My

eyes are dazzled by her memory. I cannot close them in repose until I have

drowned in the pleasure of her beautiful body."

Seelavathi cried out in alarm: "Swami, what are you saying?"

Ugrasravas turned to her angrily. "What's wrong in what I have said? It is

no sin to visit prostitutes. These women only satisfy a natural, necessary

craving in society."

Seelavathi protested in horror: "Swami , but …"

Her husband exploded in rage: "No buts, woman! Do you think you can

satisfy my body by constantly parroting ‘Swami, Swami’ in my ears? Do

you dare to disobey your husband? I command you to take me to her

immediately!"

Controlling her tears, Seelavathi pleaded, "Please listen to me, my lord.

Prostitutes must be paid for their services. You know we have no money

…"

Ugrasravas roared, "Don't I know that I am a pauper? Yet, we don't starve,

do we? You don't mind cramming me into a basket, come rain or shine, and

begging for alms, right? Well then, just do the same now – beg the

prostitute to bestow alms of pleasurable delight on your husband."

Seelavathi was speechless in horror.

Ugrasravas continued to rave: "Fall at her gorgeous feet! Beg her to satisfy

my passion! Tell her you will pay her fees by gathering alms from

everyone."

"Swami , you are ill. Let me …"

"Shut your mouth! It is the sight of your simpering face which paralyzes my

limbs. The pleasures of her body will be a panacea for all my ills. Now,

move! Get my basket!"

Like a maniac, Ugrasravas rolled about on the bed and struggled to come to

his feet. Seelavathi sighed in resignation. Placing him in his customary

position in the basket, she lifted her burden on to her head and walked

towards the village with a heavy heart.

Ugrasravas, immersed in happy anticipation of the pleasures to come,

luxuriously stretched out his legs. Suddenly, a cry of indescribable anguish

rang out in the darkness of the new moon night, making Seelavathi stop

short. As she strained her alarmed eyes, the vague outline of a human

figure, impaled high up on the point of a vertical spike, was discernable in

the gloom.

A hoarse male voice moaned, "Hear me – the thoughtless boor who kicked

me will himself undergo excruciating torment. He will die when the sun

rises. This is the immutable curse of Sage Mandavya!"

Ugrasravas murmured in fright, "My leg hit someone, I think."

Seelavathi's blood turned to ice in her veins. Who was Sage Mandavya?

Would his curse come true?

Nirvikalpananda paused. His disciples waited in breathless anticipation,

fascinated by the panorama unfolding before their mind's eye.

Vimalananda, unable to contain himself any longer, burst out: "Master, who

was this Mandavya who cursed Ugrasravas?"

"My son, Mandavya was a great sage. One day, he was absorbed in deep

meditation in his ashram, arms raised skywards in a yogic posture. A band

of robbers, fleeing with their booty, stumbled upon his hermitage and

concealed themselves there without his knowledge. The king's soldiers soon

arrived there in hot pursuit, and urgently interrogated the sage. Mandavya,

who was under a vow of silence, stoically ignored them. A systematic

search of the ashram soon revealed the hidden culprits. Assuming that

Mandavya was actually one of the band, and was hoping to evade capture

by cleverly posing as a sage, the soldiers arrested him, along with the

robbers.

"At the palace, the king sentenced the thieves to immediate death. In the

case of Mandavya, the angry king ordered that he be impaled on the point

of a spear thrust vertically into the ground. Since then, the sage had lingered

on in prolonged anguish, to be further tormented by Ugrasravas' accidental

kick."

‘Hear me – the thoughtless boor who kicked me will himself undergo

excruciating torment. He will die when the sun rises. This is the immutable

curse of Sage Mandavya!'

The dark thunder of Mandavya's curse crashed repeatedly in Seelavathi's

ears.

Her husband squealed like a frightened child: "Did you hear that? Someone

has cursed me! I will die at sunrise. Take me home, take me home at once!"

As if in a trance, Seelavathi reflexively obeyed her husband and started

walking home.

‘He will die when the sun rises … when the sun rises … when the sun rises

…' the ominous words echoed in her heart, sounding the knell of doom.

On his part, Ugrasravas lamented loudly, tearing his hair: "Oh, what shall I

do? When the sun rises, I will die! "

‘When the sun rises … ' a strange thought surfaced in Seelavathi's mind:

‘What if the sun did not rise?'

Seelavathi stood still. She straightened her statuesque figure. Her eyes

gleamed resolutely. She held her head up high and proclaimed: "If it is true

that I worshipped god alone as my husband before my marriage, and my

husband alone as god after my marriage; if my chastity and virtue are truly

beyond reproach – then, may the sun never rise again!" Seelavathi's voice

resonated with bell-like clarity through the silent night. She then walked

home with her husband.

The power of Seelavathi's incomparable chastity transformed her words into

instant reality. The sun failed to rise and the cosmos was plunged into

absolute darkness. Life everywhere came to a standstill. Sacred rituals

could not be performed. The gleeful rakshasas , empowered by the absence

of light, went on the rampage. Indra and the devas were unable to fathom

the cause of this sudden calamity.

As they milled about in confusion, a blessed sound reached their ears:

"Narayana! Narayana!"

It was sage Narada. As the gods milled round the sage, clamouring for an

explanation, Narada narrated the story of Seelavathi.

Indra immediately set out for earth, declaring confidently, "I will make that

woman lift her absurd curse at once!"

Narada stopped him. "Wait, Indra. That is easier said than done Ugrasravas

is not only old and afflicted by leprosy, but also evil – yet, the chaste

Seelavathi reveres him as god. She will never consent to let her husband

die."

Indra asked anxiously, "What do we do, Narada?"

"Come, let us seek the counsel of Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara."

The devas, accompanied by Narada, trooped to Satyaloka and explained

their predicament to Brahma.

The Creator advised: "This is matter of such import that it requires the joint

deliberation of the Trimurti. Let us all go to Sri Mahavishnu."

They reached Vaikuntha, along with Maheswara.

There, after a moment of thoughtful silence, Sri Mahavishnu said:

"Mahendra, the formidable strength of Seelavathi's chastity and virtue

renders us all powerless. Of course, if Mandavya withdraws his curse,

Seelavathi will relent in her turn. However, the sage's curse is irrevocable."

Indra exclaimed in alarm: "My God, is there nothing we can do?"

Vishnu smiled and continued: "Anasuya, wife of Brahma's maanasaputra,

Atri, is Seelavathi's equal in virtue. Your only recourse is to ask Anasuya to

plead with Seelavathi to revoke her curse in order to preserve the universe.

Go, Indra. May success be yours!"

Parameswara intervened: "Mahendra! Tell Anasuya from me that it is her

duty to ensure that the sun rises for the well-being of all mankind. She must

convince Seelavathi to withdraw her curse."

Brahma added his voice: "Yes, Mahendra. Tell Anasuya that this is the

united command of the Trimurti ."

Indra saluted the Holy Trinity and left on his mission, accompanied by

Narada.

Atri and Anasuya warmly welcomed them into their ashram and listened

gravely to their explanation for the sun's absence. The couple was

astounded to learn that Seelavathi's curse was responsible for this

cataclysmic disruption of the cosmic cycle.

Narada concluded saying, "Oh, Anasuya! It is your duty to persuade

Seelavathi to retract her curse."

Indra added, "Yes, mother – this is not only our humble request, but also the

Trimurti’s command. We are but their messengers."

Atri turned to his wife: "Anasuya, my dear, will you try to convince

Seelavathi to withdraw her curse for the universal good?"

Anasuya replied: "Swami, if the sun rises, Ugrasravas will die. Seelavathi

would never consent to voluntarily bring about her own husband's death."

The anxious Indra said, "Oh, mother, can you not persuade Seelavathi to

relent? The Trimurti assured us that you are the only one capable of

accomplishing this task."

Anasuya remained immersed in deep reflection for a while. Then, she said:

"I will convince her – but on one condition."

Indra eagerly asked, "What is your condition, mother?"

"Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara must come in person to ask me to

intervene in this matter."

Atri, Narada and Indra stood in perplexed silence at her unexpected request.

"Narayana!" Narada recovered first. "That's not a big deal! All we need is

for Mahendra to pray to the Trinity for their presence."

Indra immediately looked skywards with hands raised in homage, calling

out to the Trimurti .

Atri followed his wife indoors and said, "Anasuya, what is the meaning of

this? Summoning the Supreme Gods here!! What do you plan to do?"

Anasuya smiled enigmatically: "Swami, I plan to make them play."

Before her puzzled husband could question her further, a strong wind

gusted through the ashram , bringing in its wake a divine fragrance. The air

shimmered with a corona of celestial light. From that splendid disc, the

Trinity emerged and held out their hands in blessing to Atri and Anasuya.

The pious couple, speechless in awe, made humble obeisance to the

Trimurti – they reverentially washed the gods' lotus-like feet in a basin and

sprinkled the used water on their own heads as holy teertham .

Vishnu then addressed Indra: "Mahendra, why did you summon us here?"

"My Lord, Anasuya stipulated that the Trimurti must appear before her in

person – only then will she intercede with Seelavathi on our behalf."

Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara smiled and nodded benignly.

Sri Mahavishnu said, "Anasuya, you must persuade Seelavathi to rescind

her oath."

Brahma added, "Yes, Anasuya, this is of utmost importance to the well-

being of the entire cosmos."

Maheswara joined in with, "Convince Seelavathi to let the sun rise,

Anasuya."

Anasuya bowed in deference and said, "My Lords, I will faithfully execute

the task you have given me. In return, I beg you to grant me three boons."

Vishnu's eyes twinkled mischievously as he looked at his fellow-gods. "Of

course, as Anasuya knows, everyone is powerless before a virtuous wife!

Surya had to bow to Seelavathi's oath – now we three must accede to

Anasuya's wishes!"

Parama Shiva smiled. "We will grant her the boons she desires."

Brahma agreed, "So be it!"

Vishnu turned to Anasuya: "Go to Seelavathi, my daughter. We will await

your return and bestow three boons on you."

Thus did Anasuya, Atri's virtuous wife, bind the Trimurti with the

indestructible bonds of devotion and chastity.

"Seelavathi! Seelavathi, my daughter!"

On hearing Anasuya's call, Seelavathi hurried out from her mean hut.

Touching Anasuya's feet in respect, she said, "Bless me, mother."

Anasuya replied, "Long may your husband live." Taking the young

woman's hands in her own, Anasuya said, "Seelavathi, I come here to ask a

favor of you."

"Mother, your wish is my command."

"My daughter, it is time to revoke your curse and release the sun from

bondage. You must do this for the preservation of the universe."

Anxiety clouded Seelavathi's face. "Mother, if the sun rises, my husband

will die."

"Seelavathi, you heard me give your husband the blessing of longevity.

Believe in the power of my virtue."

"Mother!" Seelavathi cried out in anguished doubt.

Anasuya smiled at her reassuringly. "My daughter, tell me – would your

own mother wish to see you a widow?"

Seelavathi hesitated. Then, folding her hands in respect, she resolutely said,

‘Mother, I place my trust in you."

Turning to the east, Seelavathi closed her eyes in prayer for a moment and

declared, "If I am indeed a chaste and virtuous wife, let the sun rise now!"

Even as her last word lingered in the air, a flare of red dispelled the

darkness of the horizon. The sun had risen! Seeing the morning light,

Seelavathi ran into the hut – Ugrasravas lay lifeless on the cot!

"Swami!" Seelavathi's anguished cry rang out in the silence. Ignoring the

heart-rending wail of pain, Anasuya hurried back to the hermitage, which

was now glowing in the flush of dawn. Atri embraced her with fond pride.

The Trimurti extended their hands in blessing.

Lord Vishnu said, "Anasuya, you have removed the veil of darkness which

shrouded the universe. We are indebted to you. Name your three boons, my

daughter."

"Bhagavan, these are my first two wishes – they require instant

gratification. Let Seelavathi's husband come back to life. Second, let him be

a devoted husband, free from the blight of leprosy, and blessed with youth

and good looks."

"Granted!" Vishnu responded immediately.

Indra chuckled in admiration. "Mother Anausya is indeed not only a

virtuous wife, but also a woman of boundless wisdom!"

Brahma smiled and asked, "And what is your third wish, Anasuya?"

Anasuya walked forward slowly with a sober face. She stood before the

Trinity and looked up at them with eyes brimming with emotion. Holding

out the edge of her saree towards them, in the humble stance of a beggar

asking for alms, Anasuya quietly said, "You, my Lords – Brahma, Vishnu

and Maheswara – grant me the boon of residing in my womb and taking

birth as my three sons."

For a moment the three gods remained completely nonplussed. Then they

looked at each other and turned as one to Anasuya: "So be it!"

Anasuya's eyes overflowed with tears of joy. Along with her husband, now

flooded with happiness himself, Anasuya paid grateful obeisance to the

Trimurti.

Vishnu smiled at them, saying, "Anasuya, we will take birth as your sons

and fill your home with play and laughter. As listed by you in your wish,

Brahma will be your first-born, followed by me. Maheswara will be your

third son."

Anasuya listened in joyful wonder.

Vishnu continued: "Atri, you and your wife are indeed fortunate. The

beautiful moon which illuminates the night sky in its ethereal form will

assume a gross body and become your eldest son. He will be Chandra –

none other than Brahma, the Creator, himself!"

The Supreme Lord paused and then said: "In due course, I myself will take

birth as Datta, your second son. I will also be called Dattatreya, or son of

Atri. Finally, Parameswara will be born to you as Durvasa."

Voices trembling with joy, Atri and Anasuya said, "We are blessed, my

Lord!"

Brahma turned fondly to his maanasaputra, Atri. "Dear son, at an

auspicious place and time of your choosing, place your seed in Anasuya's

womb – just as ghee is poured in libation into the pit of the sacrificial fire."

Atri humbly said, "I will follow your command, father."

As the pious couple bowed in reverence, Brahma blessed them: "May your

three wishes be fulfilled!"

The other celestials chorused, "So be it!"

Atri and Anasuya raised their bent heads to find themselves alone.

Atri embraced Anasuya in joyous pride, saying, "Anasyua, you are truly

blessed! Your fame will endure until the end of time." He chuckled. "Only

now do I understand your words about making the Trimurti play! My

beloved, the Holy Trinity will indeed play in our laps!"

Before his wife could reply, a cry was heard: "Mother!"

Anasuya and Atri turned to find Seelavathi at the threshold of the

hermitage, hand in hand with a handsome young man. The beaming

Seelavathi introduced her companion as her husband, Ugrasravas.

Seelavathi fell into Anasuya's arms with tears of joy. "Mother, I owe you

my husband's life and my happiness. Due to your intercession, he is now

free from the scourge of leprosy and is in the prime of youth. I can never

repay my debt of gratitude to you!"

Anasuya embraced her and chided her tenderly: "There is no room for

gratitude in a daughter's love for her mother! It is the Trimurti you should

thank, Seelavathi. Your husband's rebirth is but the deserved fruit of your

peerless chastity and the Gods' grace."

The young couple fell at the feet of Atri and Anasuya, invoking their

blessing.

Anasuya advised Ugrasravas: "Seelavathi has remained your devoted wife,

patiently enduring all the hardship of your former miserable existence. Be

good to her, my son."

Atri added, "Ugrasravas, a husband can reciprocate his wife's precious gift

of devotion only with own true affection."

Ugrasravas promised, "Father, we will strive to emulate you and Mother

Anasuya in our marriage."

Affectionately holding hands, Seelavathi and Ugrasravas embarked on their

new conjugal life. Atri and Anasuya exchanged contented smiles as they

watched them leave.

Atri's eyes slowly took on a tender glow - fragments of Brahma's command

wafted in his mind: ‘the sacrificial fire … place your seed …' Atri turned

and walked expectantly into the sleeping chamber.

He drew a sharp breath at the exquisite picture that met his eyes. Anasuya,

her complexion glowing like ivory, lay on the spotless white sheets of their

bed. Atri's heart quickened with passion. She was the lodestar of his life. To

bear Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara in her womb … to suckle them, to

raise them … she was his goddess of good fortune. Through her, he would

father the Holy Trinity!

Atri stepped forward silently. The bed was awash in silver. His wife was a

voluptuous nymph floating on the softest of clouds. Atri gazed through the

open window at the radiant full moon hanging low on the horizon. This

celestial being was to be born as his son! The same iridescent moon which

illuminated the skies would soon light up his home! He turned back to

Anasuya's glowing face – had the moon already descended to earth?!

Smiling tenderly, Atri reached the bed.

Anasuya stirred at his touch; her eyes were dark pools of desire. Coral-ed

lips parted in invitation, she melted into his arms.

Months later, Atri stood apart from the crowd of women who buzzed

around his wife with their happy chatter, discussing her coming

confinement. Anasuya sat in their midst, her face almost translucent with

the glow of advanced pregnancy, softly thanking them for their good

wishes. Seelavathi braided a string of flowers into Anasuya's lustrous, floor-

length hair, while another sage's wife placed the vermillion tilak on her

forehead. Anasuya smiled to herself and absently stroked her stomach.

Atri was lost in his wife's beauty – it seemed to him that Anasuya's full,

radiant cheeks mirrored the moon cocooned in her womb.

"Swami!" Anasuya's call broke into his reverie. He blinked and looked

about him. Anasuya's companions were gone.

"Swami , your eyes are on me, but your thoughts are far away!"

Atri smiled. "I lost myself in your beauty, dearest. I see the full moon

shining in your face. I can hardly believe my good fortune! My father,

Brahma, is going to be my son! Who could be luckier than I am?"

Anasuya asked mischievously. "Doesn't one half of your luck rightly belong

to me, Swami !?"

Atri looked down at her in deep affection. ‘Anasuya, my dear, your good

fortune is beyond mere luck. It is a divine gift – the rich reward of long

years of prayer and sacrifice."

He placed his arm round her and gazed up at the moon outside their

window. "When will the moon descend to the earth?" he teased her.

Anasuya smiled and leaned her head on his strong shoulder. "You won't

have to wait much longer, my lord. He should be here in a matter of days."

In the year of Soumya, on the tenth day of the waxing moon, in the month

of Kaartik, Anasuya gave birth to a beautiful baby boy: the physical

manifestation of Brahma, brimming with the quality of rajoguna.

Atri held his infant son's naming ceremony at his ashram, in the presence of

the Trimurti and their consorts. The host of maanasaputras and devas,

along with sage Narada, showered their blessings on the baby.

Brahma cradled his own incarnation fondly in his arms and said, "This is

Chandra."

Sri Mahavishnu stepped forward: "Chandra will refresh the worlds with the

invigorating blessing of his innate coolness. He will be worshipped as one

of the Navagrahas.”

Nirvikalpananda stopped, as Chidananda claimed his attention with a

respectfully raised hand.

Eyes blazing in curiosity, the disciple said, "Master, we have seen the chaste

Seelavathi freed from her misery. The virtuous Anasuya has realized her

wish for progeny. Both these developments can be attributed to sage

Mandavya's curse. But you have forgotten to tell us the sage's own fate:

what happened to him?"

Nirvikalpananda replied, "My son, I have not elaborated on sage

Mandavya's fate because it does not have much relevance to the story of the

Navagrahas ."

"But, master, we are on tenterhooks as to what befell him!" protested

Vimalananda.

Nirvikalpananda gave his young acolytes an indulgent smile. "Very well.

The king soon received proof of Mandavya's innocence. Filled with

remorse, he ordered the sage's immediate release. However, as the guards

lifted Mandavya's torso from the spike, the metal tip, or ani, broke off and

remained lodged in his throat. Henceforth, the sage was known as

Animandavya.' Since you are all interested in the strange circumstances of

his life, I will add that this same sage was instrumental in Yamadharmaraja,

the god of death, taking the avatar of Vidura in Dwapara yuga.

"And going back to Atri and Anasuya, in due course, Lord Vishnu and Lord

Shiva were born to them as Dattatreya and Durvasa – their second and third

sons, respectively."

He paused and teased them gently: "And now, my sons, may I proceed with

the tale of the Navagrahas ?"

His disciples smiled rather sheepishly.

Sadananda said, "Master are we going to hear about Kuja graha next?"

"Yes, my sons." He paused a moment. "Kuja's birth began with a discussion

at Satyaloka."

The four disciples sat up straight in anticipation. They were all ears as

Nirvikalpananda resumed his discourse.

The Birth of Kuja

B rahma sat on his pristine white lotus, with Saraswati beside him. They

exchanged a knowing smile as the familiar chant, "Narayana!" reached their

ears. Then, Narada stood before them, bowing in reverence to his parents.

Saraswati said, "Narada, you have arrived just in time!" She turned to

Brahma: "Swami , why don't we ask Narada to be our referee?"

The curious sage asked, "What is this, mother?"

"Well, Narada, Chandra is none other than a part of Lord Brahma's essence,

right?"

Narada nodded warily in agreement.

Saraswati continued, "But, I say that Chandra outshines Lord Brahma in

good looks. Your father denies this. Now, we leave you to cast the deciding

vote!"

Narada hesitated.

Hiding his smile, Brahma murmured, "Comparing me with an infant!

Whatever next?"

Saraswati, looking at Brahma from the corner of her eyes, urged the sage:

"Come, Narada! Who is handsomer: my Lord Brahma or the young

Chandra?"

"Narayana!" the hapless Narada exclaimed. "I am caught in a dilemma!

However, I must, at all costs, avoid falsehood in the presence of my mother,

the goddess of speech. I must admit that Chandra is handsomer." Saying

this, Narada anxiously scanned Lord Brahma's faces – to his great relief, all

four were wreathed in smiles.

The Creator laughed aloud. "So, both of you have decided that I am blind to

Chandra's beauty? It is I who willed that he be the handsomest of my

creation!"

Saraswati's eyes sparkled in mischief, as she replied, "And all the trouble I

had to take to make you declare the truth!"

Brahma and Narada joined in her laughter.

She then turned to the sage. "So, Narada, how is Chandra doing? Being

suckled by Anasuya, I suppose?"

"Narayana!" Narada laughed. "Mother, you forget the passage of time.

Chandra is no longer an infant feeding at Anasuya's breast. He now roams

the forest, collecting dharba grass and twigs for the sacrificial fire. Atri has

commenced his instruction in the Vedas and other scriptures."

Saraswati exclaimed in surprise: "Chandra is a young man? How time

flies!" She paused. "In that case, I think it's time for the third Navagraha to

make its manifestation."

Brahma nodded in thoughtful agreement. "Yes – and this time, it should

happen through Parameswara."

"Parameswara, my Lord?" Saraswati wondered.

"My dear, Surya is Vishnu's incarnation, just as Chandra is mine. It is but

right that the next graha is a manifestation of the third of the Trimurti ."

Narada stepped in with a "Narayana!" He continued, "Is my father

commanding me to pay a visit to Mount Kailash, by any chance?"

Brahma smiled: "Yes, Narada. Lord Vishnu and I speak in one voice. Be our

messenger to Maha Shiva."

Narada bowed his head and set out joyfully on his mission.

A hushed silence lay over Mount Kailash, Lord Shiva's sacred abode.

Narada wandered about the deserted landscape, wondering: 'Has everyone,

including Lord Shiva, abandoned Kailash after Sati ended her life in the

flames of the yogic fire?'

Then, abruptly, he came to a halt: there, before him, was Lord Shiva.

Maheswara was seated in deep meditation, oblivious to his surroundings.

His long, iridescent, copper colored tresses formed a nimbus about his head.

His normally pale complexion blazed a deep red with the fierce intensity of

his tapas. The very air round him pulsated with energy. The usually verbose

Narada stood speechless before the Mahayogi, mesmerized by the awesome

power and beauty of his divine penance.

A miracle unfolded before the sage's wonderstruck gaze. Lord Shiva's brow

flushed a vivid crimson, as if anointed by a band of vermillion. A single

tear-drop of perspiration formed at the center of the broad forehead,

glistening like a precious pearl against the ruby-red skin. The bubble

became a rivulet and flowed down the Lord's shapely nose. There it paused

a moment, adorning Shiva like an exquisite nose ornament. Then, the

pendant drop fell to the earth.

Narada's eyes widened in amazement as the bubble transformed into a

beautiful baby boy with four arms. The infant's complexion mirrored the

fiery red of Shiva's brow. The baby's loud wailing shattered the silence of

the mountain. To Narada's surprise, Shiva remained immersed in his

meditation, oblivious to the cry. The sage looked on helplessly. Then, as

though in answer to the infant's call, an exquisite damsel materialized and

gathered him tenderly into her arms.

Narada recognized her as Bhudevi, the goddess of earth. She pressed the

baby warmly to her breast, hushing his tears.

Looking intently at Lord Shiva, she called out: "Parameswara!"

Lord Shiva slowly opened his half-closed eyes and looked serenely at

Bhudevi and the infant cradled in her hands.

Bhudevi held out the boy to him, saying, "Parameswara, this is your son,

who manifested from your perspiration. Take him."

Lord Shiva gazed with equanimity at the goddess and said, "Bhudevi, this

infant has sought the shelter of your munificent lap. Raise him as your own

child."

Bhudevi exclaimed: "Bhagavan!”

Shiva continued gravely: "Without my beloved Sati, I am but an orphan

myself." Bhudevi's heart melted in sympathy at these words.

Shiva continued in a firm voice, "He is now your son. Feed him the sacred

milk from your breast and cherish him. The boy is to be called Bhouma and

Kuja, after your names, 'Bhumi' and 'Ku.' He will also be known as

Angaaraka, for his fiery complexion."

Bhudevi nodded solemnly. "Bhagavan, I am honored that you have named

the boy after me. Your wish is my command."

Before Lord Shiva could reply, Lord Vishnu and Brahma, accompanied by

their consorts, appeared in Kailash. Bhudevi and Narada bowed in

obeisance before the Trimurti .

Lord Shiva addressed his unexpected visitors: "It is good to see you all!"

Lord Brahma replied, "The pleasure is ours, Maheswara."

Lord Vishnu continued, "We come here with full hearts to felicitate you on

your timely creation of the third of the Navagrahas."

Brahma turned to Bhudevi. "Goddess of the earth, as one of the

Navagrahas, your son, Kuja, is destined for extraordinary things. Treasure

him and raise him as your own."

Lord Vishnu in his turn said, "Bhudevi, this boy is a precious gift to you

from your affectionate brother, Lord Shiva. As his mother, your name will

live forever in the annals of cosmic history. Kuja will bestow the gift of

land on all who seek his blessing on earth."

Mahalakshmi took the gurgling baby into her arms. Kissing his rosy cheeks,

she exclaimed: "Kuja is as radiant as a lotus bud!"

Saraswati, in her turn, cradled the infant in her arms, saying, "I can see the

extraordinary intelligence blazing from his countenance."

The pleased Bhudevi bowed in gratitude to Saraswati: "Goddess of wisdom,

my Kuja is indeed fortunate to receive your blessing."

"You share his good fortune, Dharani. You have borne a son without

enduring the natural rigors of pregnancy." Mahalakshmi smiled in

agreement.

Narada stepped forward to say, "Above all, it is the human race which is

fortunate. Due to the compassionate intercession of the earth goddess, they

can now worship the first three of the Navagrahas , who are each a part of

the Trimurti – Surya as Mahavishnu's vision in his right eye, Chandra as

Brahma's incarnation and Kuja as Maheswara's essence."

"So be it!" said the gods and goddesses in happy unison, before making

their departure from Mount Kailash. Lord Shiva raised his hand in

benediction over Bhudevi and the gurgling Kuja, before they vanished.

Narada, now alone with Shiva, bowed in reverence and said, "Bhagavan, I

ask your permission to leave so that I can spread the momentous tidings of

Kuja's birth across the expanse of the cosmos."

Lord Shiva smiled in tranquil acquiescence and closed his eyes. Once more,

the Mahayogi was immersed in his transcendental meditation.

Nirvikalpananda stopped and looked at his spell-bound sishyas . "That was

the birth of Kuja. Who can tell me whose story comes next?"

Chidananda replied eagerly: "I can, master! The fourth graha , Budha, is

next."

"No, my boy." Nirvikalpananda laughed at Chidananda's crestfallen face.

"We are familiar with the Navagrahas in this order: Surya, Chandra, Kuja,

Budha, Brhaspati, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu. However, this particular

order is based on their preponderance in terms of their respective merits and

powers, as ordained by the Trimurti . It is not the actual order of their births.

Kuja's manifestation was followed by that of Brhaspati and Sukra. Budha

was born only after Brhaspati's marriage to Taara. Therefore, it is better to

hear about Brhaspati and Sukra before proceeding to Budha's story."

The master paused for reflection. "In fact, my sons, both Brhaspati and

Sukra were born prior to Chandra's manifestation. Since their births do not

impinge on Chandra's story in any way, I chose to narrate Chandra's story

before theirs."

"The correct order of the Navagrahas is clear to us now, master,"

Vimalananda said.

He was seconded by Sadananda: "Yes, master – your narration depicts the

genealogy of the grahas in exhaustive detail."

Nirvikalpananda addressed his disciples: "My boys, clarity is of utmost

importance in any treatise on mythology. There should be no room for

misinterpretation – otherwise, there is danger of descending into the

absurd."

With this caution, Nirvikalpananda resumed his discourse. "I hope you

remember the name, Angiras: he was one of the maanasaputras . He had a

number of wives and numerous progeny. But these are irrelevant to

Brhaspati's birth. We need to know only about his wife, Sraddha, also

known as Vasudha. Sraddha's eldest son was Utathya …"

The Birth of Guru

A s the golden light of dawn flooded his ashram, Sage Angiras patiently

quizzed Utathya on his Vedic knowledge. Utathya plodded along in his

stolid way, answering his father's questions hesitantly and after much

thought.

Angiras hid his disappointment and thought, 'A good student should have

his answer ready even before the question has been posed! Alas! My son is

slow to comprehend and slower yet to respond!'

He looked up in relief as Narada's chant, "Narayana!" reached his ears.

Angiras dismissed Utathya and warmly welcomed the wandering sage.

Narada looked after the departing boy and asked: "So, Angiras, the son now

excels the father in his knowledge of the scriptures – right?"

Angiras sighed in regret. "If only that were true, Narada. Utathya is

undoubtedly a diligent and intelligent student. But he is rather slow on the

uptake. I must admit that teaching him is a long- drawn out affair, often

testing my fortitude. He even talks and walks slowly! How I wish I had a

wise son who possessed an intellect with the speed of light!"

"Such a son will surely be yours one day, Angiras. Worship Agnideva, the

god of fire. He will give you the child you desire."

Angiras exclaimed, ‘Agnideva?!"

Narada nodded vigorously. "Yes, Angiras. The god of fire holds you in high

esteem. Earlier, when Agni renounced the world in a fit of anger, and left to

do penance in the forest, it was you who stepped in voluntarily and

performed his duties in his stead."

"Of course I remember, Narada. In fact, Agnideva asked me to continue to

fulfill his role indefinitely. It was I who turned him down, telling him that I

preferred to be considered his eldest son."

"Then, what are you waiting for, Angiras? Angideva would not hesitate to

bless a wise man with a wiser son – all you have to do is ask!"

At Narada's suggestion, Angiras, along with his wife, Sraddha, devoutly

performed the Agnikaarya – Agnideva's favored homam. As the flames of

the sacrificial fire leaped high, the radiant Agni appeared before them in a

dazzling shower of sparks. The enthralled Angiras folded his hands in

salutation.

The god of fire smiled at him. "Angiras, I have waited long to grant you a

boon. Tell me your desire." Agni's deep voice reverberated in the air, like

shimmering columns of heat.

"Father, bless me with a son of extraordinary wisdom and intelligence."

"I cannot refuse your prayer, my son. Your wife Sraddha will bear a child of

matchless intellect and exemplary oratorical skills. In time, his name will

become a byword for wisdom in all the worlds. Through him, you and

Sraddha will earn eternal fame."

Agnideva lifted his hand in blessing over the prostrate Angiras. The yagna

fire flared brightly and the god merged into its flames once more.

Agni's promise soon bore fruit and Sraddha became pregnant. Angiras

showered his wife with tender care as they awaited the birth of their much-

anticipated son. One auspicious morning, Sraddha delivered a boy. The

infant's face glowed like a full-blown blossom and the radiant light of

wisdom blazed from his eyes.

Angiras conducted his son's naming ceremony in the presence of his fellow

maanasaputras and their families, in accordance with the prescribed Vedic

rites.

At the end of the Agnikaarya, he pronounced his son's name: "This is

Brhaspati."

Sage Narada, who graced the ceremony as the Trimurti’s representative,

proclaimed: ‘Angiras, your son will not only be a colossus of learning, he

will also occupy a special place in the pantheon of the Navagrahas. This is

the decree of the Holy Trinity."

Angiras and Sraddha exchanged looks of joy and kissed their son in fond

pride.

Angiras said, "We are indeed blessed, Narada. The Trimurti have showered

us with their grace."

Narada exhorted him: ‘Angiras, it is your paramount duty to carefully

sculpt Brhaspati's intellect into realizing its full potential."

"Narada, rest assured that I will mould my son into a scholar past compare!

He will be my superior in knowledge and surpass me in wisdom."

"Well said! This should be the rightful aim of every father – so be it,

Angiras!"

Angiras eagerly commenced his son's education when he was yet a little

child. To his father's delight, Brhaspati was an undoubted prodigy. The boy

proved an adept scholar and his tiny mind absorbed the intricacies of the

various arts and sciences as readily as a sponge. His family was awestruck

by his brilliance. He soon excelled Angiras in his depth of knowledge and

sharpness of intellect. Angiras and Sraddha, having arranged the marriage

of their elder son, Utathya, now turned their attention to Brhaspati's

matrimony.

Narada, in the course of his usual peregrination, visited Indra in Swarga and

praised the glory of his reign over the devas. Although Indra was very

pleased with the sage's commendation, there was one disappointment which

continued to rankle in his mind.

He now confided, "Narada Maharshi, I strive to provide the gods with

everything necessary for their welfare. But, to my great regret, we lack a

guru’s guidance. You are acquainted with everyone in the cosmos. I beg you

– suggest a suitable person to be our preceptor."

"Narayana!" Narada exclaimed thoughtfully. "The preceptor of the gods

must be a person of towering intellect and infinite wisdom. Hmm." He

paused. Then, "Yes! Indra, there is one person who has the credentials to fill

that unique position."

"Who is it, Maharshi ?" Indra asked eagerly.

"Brhaspati, the son of Angiras and Sraddha. He has completed his

instruction under his father and is an exemplary scholar. Under his

guidance, the devas will undoubtedly go from strength to strength."

Indra immediately rose from this throne. "Let's not waste any time,

Maharshi. Come with me to Angiras – he is one of the maanasaputras,

right?"

Indra prostrated himself before Angiras and explained the objective of his

visit. Angiras' spirits soared with justified pride at this open

acknowledgement of his son's peerless scholarship.

"Indra, if Brhaspati's wisdom contributes to the gods' welfare, I am indeed

the most fortunate of fathers. What more can I ask for? However, let's see

what my son feels about this."

When Brhaspati answered his father's summons, Narada outlined their plans

for his initiation as the preceptor of the gods.

Angiras urged his son to accept this offer: "Son, this is a unique opportunity

to put your learning to optimum use."

Brhaspati reflected for a moment and then said humbly, "Father, your wish

is my command. However, I do have one condition to make. You have

given me the gift of knowledge. I wish to establish an independent ashram,

where I can disseminate that knowledge to other disciples in my turn."

Indra immediately said, "We accept your stipulation. In fact, the devas

themselves can be disciples at your ashram ."

Indra went on to confirm Brhaspati as the deva-guru with his words:

"Master, we will construct your ashram at a suitable location and present it

to you as our guru dakshina ."

Angiras said, "I am glad that has been settled satisfactorily." He paused.

"On a different note, Sraddha and I have recently been considering

Brhaspati's marriage."

Indra enthusiastically offered his help saying, "It will be my privilege to

take on the task of finding a suitable bride for our preceptor. I will seek

Lord Brahma's counsel in this regard."

Angiras expressed his approval: "My own father is to select my son's bride!

What a blessing!"

Pleased with the developments, Narada asked, "Mahendra, when do you

plan to hold Brhaspati's investiture at Sudharma, your court?"

"I leave it to my father, Maharshi Angiras, to decide the auspicious day and

time for the initiation." Indra bowed respectfully in deference to the

maanasaputra .

Accordingly, Brhaspati was installed as the deva-guru and commenced his

chosen vocation of imparting knowledge to others. Residing at a beautiful

hermitage, he visited Swarga as necessary to discharge his duties as the

preceptor of the gods.

In due course, Indra introduced him to Lord Brahma. "Lord, this is

Brhaspati, our preceptor. His parents desire his marriage at the earliest. We

seek your valuable advice in this matter."

Brahma looked intently at the deva-guru . "Hmm. Brhaspati is indeed a

handsome man! His wife should certainly be his equal in demeanour. Let's

see."

Brahma closed his eyes in reflection. Indra and Brhaspati waited eagerly.

Then, the Creator said, "The beautiful young maiden, Taara, is at present

performing penance to acquire a suitable husband. Brhaspati, you will soon

be given the opportunity to make her acquaintance. She is fated to be your

wife."

Brahma materialized on the banks of the pond where Taara was immersed

in tapas. Her pristine white attire floated like delicate tendrils round her

flushed, lotus-like face. Long, thick lashes emphasized her closed eyes. Her

arms, as slim as lotus stems, were clasped gracefully in prayer. She stood

like a lissome creeper, adorned with lotus buds.

With a sharp intake of breath, Brahma thought, 'What sublime beauty! My

eight eyes can never have enough of this exquisite picture.' "Taara …" he

called aloud.

The large, limpid eyes opened and gazed at him in wonder.

"Swami!" Taara exclaimed, folding her hands in respect. Even to Brahma,

whose ears were long attuned to the magic of Vani's music, Taara's voice

was a veritable symphony of divine lutes.

"Taara, I bear glad tidings. Your desire for a good husband will soon be

fulfilled. Brhaspati, the preceptor of the devas , and a man of peerless

intellect, is to be your husband."

"Your will be done, Lord," Taara bowed in obedience.

"Your one-fold marriage to Brhaspati will bring you two-fold happiness!"

With this rather enigmatic blessing, Brahma disappeared, his eyes still

dazzled by Taara's beauty.

Her face radiant with joy, Taara looked about with new eyes. The cool

waves of the pond lapped at her feet in enticing invitation. Untying her long

hair, Taara waded into its pellucid water – taking the ritual avabridha

snanam which concludes a yajna. As Taara immersed herself in the water

and came up gasping for air, the exquisite beauty of her face rivaled the

charm of the lotus blossoms clustered around her.

The days passed. Taara waited in vain for Brhaspati. Yearning for his

appearance, Taara wandered from one beautiful locale to another, constantly

seeking the husband promised by Brahma. Brhaspati, in his turn, continued

his duties at his ashram , all the while waiting impatiently for Brahma's

boon to fructify.

One morning, leaving his disciples to revise their lessons, Brhaspati walked

to the river to perform his ritual ablution. As he reached the shore, he

stopped short: there, before him, was a beautiful maiden, emerging from the

water. Her dripping clothes clung to the sensuous curves of her body, vainly

attempting to curtain her loveliness from his eyes.

Brhaspati stood frozen by this vision of ethereal beauty: who could this be?

Was she a river sprite? Or perhaps a matsyakaantha washed up from the

depths of the ocean? Could she be a mermaid who had lost her way in the

river? Under the spell of her golden body, Brhaspati walked towards her as

if in a trance. A wave of excitement washed over him – for the first time in

his life, he found himself staring with desire at a woman.

He thought, 'Oh, if only Brahma had ordained this maiden to be my wife,

instead of the unknown Taara!' He gazed speechlessly into the depths of her

fish-like eyes and struggled with the emotions crowding his mind. He wet

his dry lips and tried to summon up his voice.

But the girl preempted him. "Aarya … My name is Taara. Could you please

help me? I come in search of the great Brhaspati."

Brhaspati's heart fluttered like the wings of a dove against his ribs. He could

only stare at her in silence.

"Do you know him, by any chance? Where can I find him?" she continued.

Her voice thrilled his ear with its sweet music.

He finally found his tongue and responded: "Taara – Brhaspati stands

before you!"

"You?!" Taara exclaimed in joy.

Brhaspati held out his hand: "Come, Taara."

Brhaspati took his prospective bride to his parents for their approval.

Angiras and Sraddha accepted Taara with joy and blessed their union.

Brhaspati married Taara in the presence of the devas, sage Narada and the

maanasaputras, in a grand ceremony arranged by Indra. With everyone's

happy blessings ringing in their ears, the newlyweds took their leave of

Angiras and Sraddha and reached their ashram, where they commenced

their married life.

The Birth of SukRa

N irvikalpananda stopped and regarded his disciples. They remained in

attentive silence, eager for him to continue.

"My sons, you have just heard the story of Brhaspati, the Guru. Now we

will go on to the birth of Sukra, who was Brhaspati's contemporary." The

master paused.

"Sukra is the sixth of the Navagrahas, and the son of sage Bhrgu, one of the

salient Brahma maanasaputras . However, Sukra was not his given name –

he acquired that moniker because of certain important reasons."

Sadananda spoke up in excitement: "Master, is that so? We were always

under the impression that Sukra was his real name! Why did he change his

name, master? What was his original name?"

Nirvikalpananda laughed gently at his disciple. "Now, now, Sadananda, let's

not be in a hurry! We will come to each episode in its proper place."

He smiled at the four young men and continued. "Bhrgu married Puloma,

also called Poulomi, who belonged to the rakshasa clan. In due course,

Puloma conceived. One day, when Bhrgu was away from their hermitage, a

rakshasa, also bearing the name, Puloma, abducted her. This asura, who

was an ardent past admirer of Puloma's, assumed the form of a hog and

raced away with her. Being in an advanced stage of pregnancy, Puloma

delivered a baby boy who fell to the ground from her womb in this mad

rush. This was Chyavana …"

Chidananda piped up excitedly: "Chyavana! That's Sukanya's husband –

Chyavana Maharshi! Am I right, master?"

Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "Yes, but let's keep Chyavana aside for

the moment and focus on Puloma, shall we? Puloma was a woman of

formidable character. Her chastity as Bhrgu's wife further enhanced her

powers. In due course, Chyavana set out from home to undertake prolonged

tapas. Subsequently, three more sons were born to Bhrgu and Puloma:

Vajraseersha, Suchi and Ourva. Puloma, with her own prodigious strengths,

could not hide her disappointment at the mediocrity of her sons, who were

gentle and of average intelligence. She yearned for a son with a razor-sharp

intellect, unshakeable determination and incomparable strength. Above all,

she wanted a son who was single- mindedly dedicated to the cause of the

asuras , Puloma's own beloved bloodline … "

Sage Bhrgu sat under a tree, facing the east, concluding his morning rituals.

Puloma emerged from the ashram and stood beside him. The sound of

chatter and happy laughter reached their ears. They turned to watch their

sons setting out to forage for the sacrificial twigs and grass required for the

daily yagnas.

Bhrgu fondly remarked, "Your sons are on their way to the forest to collect

darbha and samidhas without waiting to be told. You must be proud of

them, Puloma."

"They are not my sons!" Puloma shot back. "They belong to you – in every

respect!"

Bhrgu was flabbergasted at her sudden outburst. "Not your sons?! Whatever

do you mean, Puloma?"

"Just what I say." Puloma looked unflinchingly into her husband's puzzled

eyes. "I am distressed by their predominantly saatwic personality traits.

They have inherited your gentle manner of thought, speech and action.

Again, like you, they possess the tranquil disposition best suited to ascetics.

So, I consider them to be your sons, not mine!"

Bhrgu frowned in bewilderment. "Are you disowning your sons, Puloma?"

Ignoring his accusatory tone, his wife continued firmly: "Tell me Swami ,

taking into consideration my own lineage, what do you think?"

Bhrgu remained speechless – Puloma's attitude was incomprehensible to

him. It was clear that he and his wife were speaking on completely different

wavelengths.

Puloma continued impatiently, "Swami , don't you understand? All our sons

are purely saatwic in nature. None of them has the qualities I would prize in

a son. They are a great disappointment to me."

Bhrgu, deeply disturbed by her words, beckoned her close. "Come, Puloma,

sit beside me." He paused. "Now, tell me, what are these qualities you

desire in our sons?"

"Swami, how naive you are! Our sons, without exception, take after you in

saatwic traits."

"That is as it should be, Puloma."

"Well, such soft-heartedness and diffidence does not appeal to me. I yearn

to have a son of the sharpest intellect, brimming with self-confidence and

pride. He should possess immense courage and fearlessness, making him a

power to be reckoned with by all his adversaries."

Bhrgu looked at his wife with new eyes, giving her words serious

consideration.

Puloma continued: "Do you understand now, Swami ? I want a son endowed

with the qualities I have listed."

Bhrgu spoke gravely. "Puloma, do you realize that you are asking for a son

who is preponderantly raajasic and taamasic in nature? Such a combination

of attributes is best avoided, my dear."

However, Puloma remained adamant. "Swami, I am indifferent to such

niceties – all I know is what I want in a son. After all, you have four sons

who conform to your expectations. Am I not, as a mother, entitled to one

child of my own choice?" She gazed intently into her husband's eyes and

touched his feet. "Swami, bless me with a son of my own preference."

Bhrgu remained for a moment in silent contemplation. Then, heaving a

deep sigh, he placed his palm in blessing on Puloma's bowed head. "Yes,

Puloma, every mother has the right to beget children of her own choice ."

Late that evening, Bhrgu, the day's duties done, stood stroking his favorite

deer in the ashram grounds. His gaze travelled contently round the garden

and lighted on Puloma. Bhrgu froze into stillness, mesmerized by her

exquisite loveliness. His wife moved swan-like among the profusion of

flowering plants, watering them with infinitely graceful movements. Her

face was suffused by the golden light of the setting sun. A gentle zephyr

played with her flowing hair and ruffled her pale saree, outlining the

shapely contours of her body, honed to supple perfection by hours of

penance and rigorous discipline. Bhrgu could not tear his eyes away from

this picture of youth and beauty. The neglected pet deer gently rubbed itself

against his legs. Startled, Bhrgu looked down – the doe's large, limpid eyes

but mirrored the beauty of his beloved wife's.

The garden slowly turned to silver under the light of the full moon. The

heady fragrance of blossoms hung heavily on the night air. Puloma sat on a

flat boulder, head tilted up at the radiant orb in the sky. Bhrgu walked

towards her and gazed at her upturned face.

Puloma smiled up at him. "Swami , it is time you retired for the night.

Come, let's go inside."

As she rose, Bhrgu reached out to take her hand in his. He lifted her chin

with a gentle caress and gazed passionately into her dark, questioning eyes.

He held her close for a breathless moment. Then, wordlessly, he guided her

into a thick arbor of vines, covered with fragrant clusters of flowers.

The months passed. Puloma was in an advanced stage of pregnancy. A

deeply contented Bhrgu watched his wife feeding the ashram cow with

specially prepared fodder: the cow was also ready to deliver a calf.

Bhrgu thought: 'Puloma will soon have a son of her choice.' He smiled to

himself. 'But the poor cow – she does not have any say in the attributes of

her calf!'

He moved into the ashram to make the necessary arrangements for

Puloma's confinement, including the homam to ensure an easy, painless

labor. Puloma delivered a boy at an auspicious date and time.

With his inimitable sense of timing, sage Narada arrived at the ashram and

congratulated the couple on the birth of their son. "Bhrgu, I come with glad

tidings. The Trimurti and their consorts will grace your baby's naming

ceremony."

The delighted Bhrgu exclaimed, "Lord Vishnu, ParamaShiva and Brahma –

along with the Devis Mahalakshmi, Pravati and Saraswati! Really, Narada?"

Narada smiled at his excitement. "There is cause for their presence. You

will hear it from them in person, Bhrgu. Make all the necessary

arrangements and invite all your near and dear ones."

With the Holy Trinity as witness, Bhrgu celebrated his baby's naming

ceremony and gave his newborn son the name Usana.

Brahma said, "Bhrgu, my son, Usana is a gift from the Supreme Lord. His

will was the guiding force behind Puloma's request to beget a son of her

choice."

Lord Vishnu declared, "Bhrgu, in due course, Usana will be elevated to the

pantheon of the Navagrahas and will be an object of worship to the three

worlds."

Shiva added, "Bhrgu, devote the greatest attention to your son's education.

Make him a master of the arts of meditation, penance and japa ."

Bhrgu folded his hands in reverence. "The Trimurti’s blessing is all my son

needs to excel in every sphere."

Lord Vishnu turned to Puloma with a smile. "Puloma, your son will fulfill

your expectations. You will not be disappointed in him."

When Usana reached the age at which he could commence his education,

Bhrgu was astounded by his son's keen intellect and instant grasp of the

intricacies of the Vedas. The boy was an avid pupil, ready with probing

questions and quick to express his considered opinions.

As Bhrgu instructed him in the arts and sciences, in her husband's absence,

Puloma embarked on her own personal agenda. She availed of every

opportunity to instill in her son an affinity for the asuras . Puloma gave

Usana an account of the long-running rivalry between the deva and

daanava factions, emphasizing the hardships endured by the asuras. She

subtly suggested that the partisan support of the Trimurti, particularly Lord

Vishnu, was responsible for her people's sufferings. Consequently, Usana

grew up with a sense of outrage at the injustice meted out to his mother's

clan, and viewed the asuras with great sympathy.

Usana completed his prescribed studies in record time. He continued to

serve his parents and hone his skills at penance. As she observed the

obvious differences between the dynamic Usana and his placid elder

brothers, Puloma's heart was filled with a fierce pride: here indeed was the

son she had long yearned for!

The rakshasa king, Vrshaparva, sat on his throne, listening avidly to his

spies' report on the doings of his arch rivals, the devas.

He was interrupted by a palace guard. "Hail, king of the rakshasas ! The

sage Narada waits outside. Shall I let him enter?"

Vrshaparva gave a snort of disgust. "Humph! Let him in! It's not as if we

have any choice in the matter: that garrulous messenger of the cosmos will

not leave without meeting me!"

The king turned to his espionage chief. "Soorpakarna, you can resume your

report after Narada leaves."

"Narayana! Narayana!" Narada entered the court.

Vrshaparva nodded perfunctorily in his direction with a listless, "Narada."

"Narayana!" responded the irrepressible sage, as he seated himself

comfortably near the king.

Vrshaparva frowned in annoyance. "Narada, your constant refrain is an

assault upon my ears! Don't you know that Narayana is the asuras’ sworn

enemy?"

Narada looked up in mock horror. "I beg your pardon, Vrshaparva! My

tongue is so accustomed to this beloved chant, that it sometimes forgets

itself!"

The asura king shook his head impatiently. "Very well, Narada, come

straight to the point: what is the purpose of your visit?" He added

emphatically, "Uninvited, of course!"

"Nothing in particular, Vrshaparva. I am just going about my usual task –

the collection and dissemination of information."

"So, you have come here to milk me for information, is it?"

"Now, now, Vrshaparva: why so cynical?! Perhaps I have come to give you

tidings of great interest."

"Hah!" The asura king gave a sarcastic bark. "You can't fool me with your

guile, Narada! Don't I know that you are a partisan of the devas , just like

the person whose name you are so fond of parroting?"

Narada, not in the least bit perturbed, smiled. "How you misjudge me,

Vrshaparva! Very well – here's a piece of information to prove my

bonafides: Indra has appointed Brhaspati, Angiras' son, as the preceptor of

the devas."

Vrshaparva frowned. "Brhaspati? Is he that qualified?"

"Yes, indeed. He possesses an extraordinary intellect. Soon his name will

become a synonym for wisdom."

The asura king looked suspiciously at the beaming sage. "Going by your

smug expression, Narada, I think it was you who manipulated this

arrangement."

"Narayana!" The sage laughed. "How quick on the uptake you asuras are!"

Vrshaparva said accusingly, "Well, if you are truly impartial, why did it not

occur to you to bring Brhaspati here?"

"Narayana!" Narada threw up his hands in consternation. "Who am I to take

sides? Think, Vrshaparva: you are Brahma's great grandson, through his

maanasaputra, Mareechi and his son, Kasyapa. I, on the other hand, am

your grandfather Mareechi's brother. Unfortunately, the suras and the

asuras are now adversaries, although you are brothers by blood. But, as far

as I'm concerned, I, Narada, continue look upon the devas and the demons

with strictly impartial eyes."

Vrshaparva gave him an amused glance. "Narada, you have an

extraordinarily gifted tongue!"

The sage continued in an aggrieved voice: "I came here to tell you that you

should emulate Indra and have a learned guru at your court …"

Vrshaparva interrupted sarcastically: "Which is why you gifted Brhaspati to

Indra, is it?"

"Narayana!" exclaimed Narada impatiently. "Forget Brhaspati: I have

another person in mind for you. He has a razor-sharp intellect and excels

Brhaspati in clarity of thought and firmness of action." Narada lowered his

voice. "And now we come to the crux of the matter, Vrshaparva – he is also

exceptionally sympathetic towards the asuras . He …"

The asura king, all ears now, interrupted: "Who is this person?"

"I am coming to it, Vrshaparva." Narada chided. "You know Bhrgu

Maharshi, pre-eminent among the Brahma maanasaputras? Well, he

married Puloma, who belongs to your lineage …"

Vrshaparva intervened impatiently, "All this is known to me – don't waste

my time! Go on!"

"Very well. Bhrgu and Puloma's fifth son has completed his period of

studies. He is a person of towering intelligence. In fact, he is more than

equal to Brhaspati in all aspects. But the clinching factor in his favour is his

obvious sympathy towards the asuras . Puloma has ensured that her favorite

son has grown up to be a partisan of the demons."

Vrshaparva eyes glowered in excitement as Narada continued, "I suggest

you engage Usana's services before he undertakes any other binding oath."

"Narada, why don't you intercede with Bhrgu on our behalf?"

"Narayana! That was indeed the purpose of my visit : now, do you concede

that I am impartial?"

Vrshaparva laughed aloud. "Narada, I will do even better: I will now

concede that you are partial towards the asuras!"

"Narayana!" Narada laughed. "I see that you asuras are definitely

impetuous in nature! Come, let's not waste any time, but make at once for

Bhrgu's hermitage."

Vrshaparva commanded: "Ugraa! Get the chariot ready at once!"

Soon they stood before Bhrgu with their proposal.

"Preceptor to the asuras ?" the Maharshi pondered aloud.

"Yes," Vrshaparva urged. "We keenly feel the absence of a mentor and

guide. Narada has given me glowing reports of Usana. I request you to bless

our lineage by consenting to this appointment."

Narada added: "Say 'yes,' Bhrgu rishi . It is indeed a pity that the young

asuras have no one to instruct them."

Puloma now spoke up. "Swami , please grant Vrshaparva's request."

At Bhrgu's surprise, Puloma explained, "Even when I asked you for the

boon of a son like Usana, I had inklings of what was to come."

Usana, who had remained a silent spectator, now spoke up in his turn:

"Father, let me fulfill my mother's wish."

Bhrgu shook his head and smiled. "It looks like I am outnumbered in this

matter! Very well, Usana. May you garner great glory as the preceptor of

the asuras.”

"Father, rest assured that the knowledge you have imparted to me will be

instrumental in earning that glory," Usana replied humbly.

The contented Vrshaparva respectfully touched Bhrgu and Puloma's feet

saying, "The asuras are eternally indebted to you both for the blessing of

your son."

Narada suggested, "Vrshaparva, tomorrow is an auspicious day. Why don't

you anoint Usana as your guru then?" Bhrgu seconded the sage.

Vrshaparva declared proudly, "Usana's investiture shall outshine Brhaspati's

in every way!"

True to his word, Vrshaparva inducted Usana into the preceptorship of the

asuras with much pomp and ceremony. Usana immediately took on his

appointed task of instructing the asura children and guiding the workings of

Vrshapavra's court. Very soon, his sterling intellectual prowess, and overt

hatred of the devas, earned him the asuras’ respect. In time, Vrshapavra

himself sought his counsel on matters of state and Usana firmly established

his pre-eminence among the asuras.

Nirvikalpananda smiled at his spellbound disciples and continued his

narrative.

"My sons, as I mentioned earlier, the story of Budha's birth is intertwined

with that of Chandra, Brhaspati and Usana. Now that you are familiar with

history of these three, you can easily comprehend Budha's origin."

The master paused to drink deeply of the water in the copper vessel on the

floor.

"As you recall, Chandra was born to Atri and Anasuya. The couple lavished

their love and care on their cherished son. Chandra pleased his father with

his sterling character and intelligence. Anasuya, on her part, could not resist

adoring her handsome son. In time, Anasuya brought up the question of

Chandra's marriage. Atri replied that Chandra first needed to spend some

time under the tutelage of an able guru …"

Nirvikalpananda proceeded with his discourse.

Coming to the end of the day's lesson, Atri intoned, "Om !"

"Om !" Chandra echoed his father's concluding chant devoutly, with closed

eyes. Father and son relaxed for a moment under the spreading branches of

a tree in the ashram .

As Chandra rose to leave, Atri gestured to him to remain seated. "Chandra,

I have something to say."

Chandra obediently waited to hear his father. "My son, the instruction you

have imbibed from me is but a little drop in the vast ocean of knowledge. It

is time you served a guru to further advance your education."

Hearing Atri's words, Anasuya, who happened to be passing by, said,

"Swami, what can Chandra learn from another guru that you yourself

cannot teach him? Who is more knowledgeable than you?"

Atri smiled fondly at his wife. "My dear, you know Angiras, my fellow

maanasaputra. His son, Brhaspati, is a powerhouse of knowledge and

wisdom. His prodigious intellect has earned him the preceptorship of the

devas.”

Anasuya said, "Yes, I remember Brhaspati: we attended his wedding."

"Brihaspati has established an independent hermitage to impart knowledge

to his disciples. I intend to send our Chandra to him."

With an affectionate look at her son, Anasuya said thoughtfully, "Swami,

you are right. Brhaspati will be Chandra's ideal guru.”

Atri gently corrected her: "Anasuya, Chandra will be Brhaspati's ideal

disciple!" He smiled fondly at his son. "Chandra, you will leave tomorrow."

The next morning, Chandra prepared to set out for Brhaspati's ashram .

Following the customary rite of departure, Anasuya served her son a sweet

dish at the start of his journey.

Atri advised his son: "Chandra, you have thrived under my tutelage with

your love, devotion and whole-hearted dedication. However, when you

undertake your study under a guru , it is discipline and obedience which

must take precedence. Above all, respect your teacher: remember, keep

your head bowed when you address him." "Yes, father."

Anasuya added her counsel: "Son, you must also respect your master's wife.

She stands in your mother's stead, and sees that you are fed. Make use of

every opportunity to lend a hand in the daily chores of the hermitage."

"Mother, I will follow your advice," Chandra said. He touched his parents'

feet in respect.

Atri blessed him with the words, "My son, may your praiseworthy behavior

fill us with pride."

Anasuya embraced her boy and kissed him tenderly on his forehead. Her

voice choked with emotion. "Chandra, my thoughts will always be with

you. Take care of yourself, my son."

Atri and Anasuya watched Chandra leave. Anasuya remained standing on

the threshold of the ashram until her son was lost to the view of her tear-

filled eyes.

OceanofPDF.com

The Birth of Budha

T he soothing cadence of Vedic hymns permeated the air of the ashram .

Brhaspati's disciples, seated in sedate rows beneath the trees, recited their

lessons under the watchful eye of their master. Multi hued parrots, hiding

among the thick foliage of the branches, sweetly mimicked the mantras.

The incessant chirruping of birds, punctuated by the occasional scream of

peacocks, formed a pleasing background score to this serene symphony.

A sudden movement distracted Brhaspati, who looked up from his attentive

focus on his pupils' recitation. He frowned, his thick brows almost meeting

in surprise – a young man was silently making his way towards the

hermitage on the grass-covered footpath. The guru marked the superbly

sculpted torso and the glowing complexion. Here was a man endowed with

incredible beauty: a beauty which would instantly cast its spell on all eyes,

male or female.

'Who can this be?' wondered Brhaspati. 'Not even Indra's Swarga can boast

of such breathtaking handsomeness!' The young stranger drew near. He

stood behind the rows of disciples and waited respectfully.

Brhaspati, curiosity aroused, asked, "And who might you be, young man?"

"I am here to see you, master," replied Chandra courteously.

Brhaspati raised a hand to silence his pupils. The parrots followed suit and

fell silent on their perches above. Brhaspati beckoned the newcomer

forward. The young man stood before the guru and bowed his head. The

disciples craned their necks to glimpse the unexpected stranger in their

midst.

"I am Chandra, the son of sage Atri and Anasuya."

"Oh! Aatreya …" Brhaspati acknowledged, as Chandra continued: "I am

here to pursue my higher education under you, as commanded by my

father."

"Is that so?" asked Brhaspati, again noting the extreme beauty of the new

arrival.

Chandra prostrated himself at the guru’s feet and said humbly, "Master,

please accept me as your disciple and bless me with the gift of knowledge."

"May you be happy," Brhaspati replied.

Chandra looked up in surprise and exclaimed, "Master, I am here to be your

student!"

Brhaspati's incipient frown turned into a smile. In effect, this young man

had indicated that the guru’s blessing was inappropriate to the situation.

"You are right, my boy – a disciple should not live in comfort." He lifted his

right hand in benediction: "May all knowledge be yours!"

"I am truly blessed, master," Chandra saluted his new guru, who instructed:

"Chandra, go complete your morning rites and recover from the fatigue of

your travel. Then …"

Chandra interrupted: "Master, I performed the morning rituals on my way

here." He paused to look around at the pleasant environs of the hermitage.

"And my fatigue has vanished in this refreshing ambience."

Brhaspati smiled. "Very well, Chandra … By the way, how is sage Atri?"

"He is fine, master."

"And Mother Anasuya?"

"She is fully occupied in catering to my father's needs."

Brhaspati smiled in approval. "Now, that is what I call an ideal couple! And

you are fortunate to be their son." He pointed to the back row. "Sit there,

Chandra. I will examine the depth of your knowledge this evening and then

determine what course to follow with you – including any necessary

corrections." He stopped as a young woman approached from the hermitage

bearing a vessel of water, which she offered to Chandra.

Brhaspati made the introductions: "This is Punjikasthala, the hermitage

maidservant. She tends to the disciples' dormitory and lends a helping hand

round the ashram ."

Having drunk deeply of the cool water offered by the maid, Chandra made

his way to the last row of disciples.

A pair of hungry eyes feasted unblinkingly on his broad, retreating

shoulders. These large eyes peered furtively through an open window of the

ashram’s inner chamber. They did not belong to Brhaspati; nor to any of his

disciples – no: these amorous eyes, limpid as lotus petals, belonged to

Brhaspati's wife – to Taara.

Late that evening, Brhaspati entered the bedroom. Taara sat statue-like on

the bed, draped in a saree which fluttered tantalizingly in the breeze wafting

in from the open window, redolent with the sweet fragrance of flowers.

The surprised Brhaspati exclaimed, "Taara! You are still awake!"

Taara jumped up at her husband's voice like a startled doe. "Swami, it's

you!" She hurried on: "I am unable to sleep …"

Brhaspati lay on the bed. Instinctively, his hand reached out for his wife.

Taara looked down at him. "Your new disciple ." she swallowed with

difficulty. Clearing her throat, she murmured indistinctly, "Chandra …"

"Are you talking about Chandra, dear?"

"Yes, that's his name, right?" She paused. "I think he is much older than the

other disciples – isn't he, Swami ?"

"Not only is he senior in age, he is also miles ahead of the others in

obedience, knowledge and wisdom." Brhaspati smiled approvingly.

"Is that so?"

"Taara, who do you think Chandra is? He is none other than the beloved son

of Brahma maanasaputra , Atri, and his chaste wife, Anasuya."

"They are widely acknowledged to be an exemplary couple, Swami ."

"Yes, dear." Brhaspati continued with a note of pride. "Atri has particularly

chosen me to be his son's guru !"

"That is indeed fortunate, Swami. It is good to have a young man among all

these children – they cannot even carry water from the river for our use

without spilling half of it on the way!" Taara waited for a moment and then

asked, "Swami, could I ask Chandra to fetch water from the river daily?"

Brhaspati smiled indulgently. "Why, Taara, you don't need my permission

for that! You know that, for every disciple, serving the guru ’s wife is

tantamount to serving the master himself."

A deep sigh escaped Taara's lips.

Brhaspati gently pulled her towards him, saying, "Come, Taara, it's time

you retired for the night. You are always up before dawn."

Taara deftly extricated her hand from her husband's clasp and came to her

feet in one fluid movement. "You too need your rest, Swami. I am wide

awake. I think I'll go for a stroll in the garden. I'll be back soon – don't wait

up for me."

Without waiting for Brhaspati's response, Taara quickly walked out of the

room.

The cool night breeze rippled through Taara's thick curls. A sudden gust

blew her upper garment from her shoulders. As the wind played merrily

with the truant cloth, Taara remained oblivious to her exposed body. Her

saree fluttered in the breeze and then clung to her like a second skin,

sculpting the contours of her sensuous figure. A torrent of dark longing rose

from the depths of her being, flooding her with desire: well did she know

the reason for her sleeplessness that night! She thought, 'Chandra pulls at

me like an irresistible tide. I yearn for his touch.'

Brahma's words echoed in her mind: 'Brhaspati, the preceptor of the devas ,

and a man of peerless intellect, is to be your husband.'

Taara sighed. Could Brahma have been wrong? Perhaps it was Chandra

who was destined to be her husband. Had she made a mistake?

Taara froze as someone tugged at her upper garment from behind! She

gasped and turned slowly, expecting to see Chandra – but, no – with a sharp

pang of disappointment, she saw that the cloth was merely tangled in the

branch of a flowering plant. She freed the garment and threw it desultorily

over her shoulders. Again, Taara drew up short: there before her stood the

disciples' cottages. In one of them Chandra slept peacefully, blissfully

oblivious to the tumultuous passion which raged in her own sleepless heart!

The intoxicating fragrance of the flowers overwhelmed her senses. With a

little cry of pain, Taara ran back into the ashram. As she walked slowly

towards her room, Brhaspati's snores reached her ears.

It was the time of the noon meal. Brhaspati's disciples sat in two parallel

rows, facing each other, while their master took his place at their head,

commanding a view of both lines. Taara approached Brhaspati and served

his food on the banana leaf before him. Her husband suddenly frowned and

called out to one of his pupils: "Sanaathana! Where is Chandra?"

The boy replied, "Master, he has not come yet."

Taara intervened: "Who, Chandra? Swami , I sent him to fetch water from

the river. Unfortunately, I accidentally overturned the pot and spilled all the

water."

"But it is meal time, Taara …" Brhaspati reproached his wife gently.

"Swami , I asked him to have his food first – it was he who insisted on

fetching the water immediately." She paused. "Carry on with your meal,

Swami . Chandra can eat with me."

Chandra stood hesitantly on the threshold of the dining hall. On the floor

before him were two banana leaves, one of which held a meal.

"Come, Chandra." He started at the voice. "Seat yourself at your leaf. I have

served your food."

Chandra turned round to see Taara, his master's wife, holding a bowl of

steaming rice in one hand and a spoon in the other. Chandra remained

standing by the door.

Taara laughed merrily. "So, what is it that fascinates you so? Me, or the

banana leaf?"

Chandra came to and bowed deferentially. ‘After you, madam."

"No, Chandra, I have told your guru that we will eat together. Come join

me!" she commanded him.

Chandra slowly walked towards the leaves. Taara gave an enigmatic smile.

"Why the hesitation, Chandra? Are you not hungry? As for me, I am

ravenous." She gestured invitingly towards his leaf. "Sit and eat."

Without removing her intent gaze from his face, Taara seated herself before

him, saying, "Just give me a minute – I will serve myself."

As she bent over her plate, her upper garment dropped over the leaf.

Chandra looked up at her sudden gasp and froze. He could not tear his eyes

away from the startling beauty of her exposed breasts.

Taara gave a breathless laugh. "Oh! This garment refuses to stay put in its

place!" She wryly held out her hands which were busy with the meal.

"Chandra, could you please cover me?"

Chandra remained stock still, his eyes glued to her revealed body.

"Chandra!" Taara's insistent voice broke the spell.

Chandra jumped up. Picking up the cloth with a trembling hand, he gently

draped it over her shoulders. Taara straightened up – the garment was now a

curtain of snow over twin peaks. Taara nonchalantly commenced her meal.

Chandra, on the other hand, had lost his appetite. The sharp pangs of hunger

which gnawed at the pit of his stomach, and blazed from his eyes, had

nothing to do with food.

Taara asked casually, "So, how is the food? Tasty?"

Coming to with a start, Chandra started on his own meal. A teasing smile

played about Taara's lips. Chandra ate mechanically, his eyes straying

constantly from his leaf to her face.

"Your guru says that your mother is a great woman." Taara remarked.

"Yes …" Chandra faltered.

Taara continued, "I also heard that she is very good looking." She stopped

eating. "Is she really that beautiful?"

"Yes," Chandra's voice picked up assurance as Taara's questions gradually

put him at ease. "My mother is indeed very beautiful."

Taara asked, "More beautiful than I am?"

Chandra looked into her mischievous eyes. Her teeth sparkled like jasmine

buds through the parted, ruby-red lips.

Taara continued impishly: "Tell me, Chandra: who is more beautiful – your

mother or I?"

Chandra remained speechless.

"Come now, Chandra: answer my question." She urged him on.

Chandra stammered, "Both … both of you are beautiful ."

Taara burst into laughter. "Poor Chandra!" She gestured towards his leaf.

"Hmm … eat."

Closing his leaf abruptly, Chandra rose. "I have had my fill."

As Taara bent to pick up the leaves, her wayward upper garment again

dropped from its place. Taara turned towards Chandra. "Ooops! Here we go

again! This cloth seems to have a mind of its own today! Chandra …" She

shrugged helplessly at him.

Standing close behind her, Chandra picked up the recalcitrant garment and

covered her with it.

Taara's eyes twinkled. "My sarees are always like this – they insist on

dropping down at the least provocation!"

Taara moved away, her swaying gait reminding Chandra of a swan gliding

by on the surface of a crystalline lake. He stood mesmerized by her beauty.

Was it possible that she could be even lovelier from the back? He thought of

his mother – yes, Taara and Anasuya were both beautiful – but, each in her

own way.

As darkness shrouded the ashram grounds, Chandra wandered sleeplessly

beneath the trees. A muffled cry made him turn back and search anxiously

among the foliage. Was she hiding in the concealing gloom? Was she

abroad this night, wide awake like him? Was she also possessed by the

tumultuous thoughts which lashed his heart with exquisite pain? Again and

again, Chandra's mind replayed the tableau of Taara's upper garment

dropping to reveal her breathtaking loveliness. The music of her lute-like

voice haunted his ears.

Chandra wandered soundlessly about the garden, seeking Taara. Again, he

heard a rustle in the bushes. He turned quickly – it was but the fluttering of

wings. The bird flew away. Chandra sighed in remorse. Taara was his

master's wife. Perhaps it was but commonplace for her upper garment to

drop … maybe it was customary for whoever was near, master or disciple,

to adjust the cloth. Was it his own inexperience with women which aroused

such tumult in his heart? Chandra shook his head. Was he reading more into

her enigmatic eyes than was warranted by the afternoon's events? He

shrugged helplessly and walked towards his dormitory with a heavy heart.

As he moved away, a rustle was heard – a bush parted to reveal

Punjikasthala. The maid smiled to herself and walked towards her own

cottage. Punjikasthala was an apsara. To her resentment, Indra had ordered

her to serve Brhaspati, effectively barring her from Swarga . The monotony

of ashram life weighed heavily on the apsara – it was one boring, never-

ending round of cleaning, gathering flowers for the daily worship and

obediently carrying out the duties allotted to her by the master's wife. Here,

there were no handsome young devas to compliment her on her beauty – no

dance or song to enliven the long evenings. If only she possessed Urvasi or

Menaka's extraordinary talent: Indra would never have cast her into this dull

existence. Punjikasthala heaved a sigh: it was her unfortunate lot to live in

the ashram , far from the excitement of Swarga.

Brihaspati's disciples devoutly recited the Vedas with closed eyes. Their

master examined them meticulously. His gaze came to rest on Chandra. The

young man sat detached from the classes' recitation, staring towards the

hermitage, where Taara stood behind an open window, a lingering smile on

her lips.

"Chandra!" Brhaspati's grave tone startled Chandra into attention. The guru

continued seriously, "You are not concentrating."

Chandra flushed in shame. "Forgive me, master" he stammered.

Brhaspati admonished him: "Concentration is absolutely essential in order

to master the Vedas – stay focused on your instruction."

Brhaspati completed his morning worship and prepared to set out for

Swarga. After breakfasting on the offertory fruits, he turned to his wife.

"Taara, my presence is needed at Indra's council today."

"When will you be back, Swami ?"

"By tonight. I will leave Chandra in charge of the disciples."

"Yes," agreed Taara. "They require strict supervision if they are not to

become boisterous in your absence."

Brhaspati looked intently at her face and said tenderly, "Let Punjikasthala

take care of the chores, my dear. You look tired." His eyes mirrored his

concern.

Taara nodded meekly in agreement.

Taara stood at the open window, watching Brhaspati's disciples seated in

their orderly rows, reciting their mantras. Chandra had taken up his position

before them, representing their master. A multitude of emotions buzzed

through Taara's head like a hive of honeybees. Presently, she emerged from

her reverie and turned resolutely from the window. A teasing smile played

upon her lips.

She walked to the pots which stood ranged against a wall, filled to the brim

with water. She carried a pot outside and poured its contents on the ground.

Leaving the empty vessel there, she proceeded to repeat the procedure with

the remaining pots. Once done, she looked at the row of empty vessels with

a complacent smile.

"Punjika!" shouted Taara. "Punjikasthala! Where are you, girl? Come here."

The maidservant came running. "Mother, what is it?"

"The water was covered with dust – I have emptied the pots. Go and fetch

fresh water from the river. The children need clean water to drink. Fill all

the vessels."

"Yes, mother," Punjikasthala obediently picked up the pots and departed for

the river.

Taara walked to the front of the class of disciples, studiedly ignoring

Chandra. "The master has gone to Indra's court. I know that he has assigned

lessons for the day, but the firewood is completely exhausted. Instead of

studying, I want you all to go to the woods to collect kindling for the

ashram. Sanaathana, you will be the leader of the foraging team." She

turned to the other pupils. "I expect you all to obey Sanaathana …"

"But, mother," Sanaathana protested, "Master has appointed Chandra as our

leader in his absence."

"I know that, Sanaathana." Taara's voice was tinged with impatience.

"Chandra is needed here to perform a few tasks which are beyond you and

me. So, go to the forest!"

The disciples needed no further urging – they willingly abandoned their

lessons and set out for the woods in high spirits.

Chandra looked at Taara with doubtful eyes. "Master did order me to …"

Taara cut him off with a curt – "Chandra, I am aware of your guru’s

instructions." She continued on a softer note. "But, I hope you are aware

that serving the master's wife is as important as obeying the master!"

Chandra marveled at her profile, as exquisite as every other part of her

body. 'I have never addressed her as 'mother',' he thought. 'I wonder why.'

Taara turned to him and smiled, her pearl-like teeth gleaming between the

coral of her lips. "Chandra, why is it that you alone among the disciples do

not address me as 'mother'?"

Chandra's heart raced at the uncanny question. Could she read his thoughts?

"Come on, tell me why."

Chandra remained silent. He passed his tongue nervously over his dry lips.

"Come on, tell me why." Chandra jumped as her words echoed loudly from

behind him. He turned quickly – there was no one there!

"Come on, tell me why." Again, her words reverberated in the silence. What

sorcery was this? Then, the rustling of leaves pulled his startled gaze

upwards: a parrot sat on the bough, fluttering its wings.

Taara burst into trills of merry laughter. "Until you answer, the parrot will

repeat my words!" She drew near and placed her feather-light fingers over

his parted lips for a fleeting second, saying, "But, not here – you will give

me your answer in the garden."

"Come, Chandra," she clasped his hand and urged him on.

"Come, Chandra," the parrot repeated from the tree.

"Come, Chandra." Taara enticed him forward with her impish smile.

"Come, Chandra." The parrot reinforced her words from above.

Taara's hand, slim as a lotus stem, became a taut noose of desire – and he

was its willing captive. Chandra gave a reckless laugh and staggered after

the vision of loveliness moving ahead of him.

Chandra tossed and turned restlessly on his mat. It was well past midnight,

but sleep continued to elude him. Scenes from his afternoon tryst in the

garden ran through his mind in a kaleidoscopic loop.

"Come on!" Taara gripped his hand and broke into a carefree run. She

stopped, panting, in the thick undergrowth below the spreading branches of

a tree. She smiled up at him. Chandra could not tear his fascinated eyes

from the rise and fall of her breasts. Rivulets of perspiration ran down his

face.

"You are sweating, Chandra. It must be all this running …" remarked Taara.

He started as she reached up to dab at his face with the edge of her upper

garment. He was intoxicated by the heady fragrance of pollen wafting from

the cloth, blending seamlessly with the petal-soft touch of her hand.

"You are still sweating! Are you tired?" Taara looked at the beads of

perspiration forming on his brow.

Chandra did not reply. Well did he know that fatigue was far removed from

his mind and body!

"We are in the garden! Shall we pick flowers?" Taara asked vivaciously.

"If you want …" Chandra managed to murmur the words.

"Very well – you take that side and I'll cover this one. Let's see who gathers

more flowers." Taara laughed playfully as she added a condition. "And the

collected flowers should be of different colours."

Chandra gathered flowers absently, his thoughts a riot of emotion. The

touch of every flower was a caress from Taara's soft hand.

In a while, her sweet words carried to him on the breeze: "Chandra, where

are you? Come here."

He walked slowly towards the melodious sound of her voice.

"Here I am." He could not see her. Was this to be a game of hide and seek?

"Chandra, here – in this bower!"

His blood sang in excited response to her lilting laugh. He walked slowly to

the arbour, the fragrance-laden air pulling at him like a powerful

aphrodisiac. He stooped to enter the thick canopy of climbing plants. The

melodious tinkling of Taara's bangles greeted him in the subdued light of

the leafy shelter. Suddenly, he was deluged by a shower of flowers.

As he gasped in surprise, her musical voice rang out in mocking laughter. "I

gathered the flowers for you – not for god!" She paused. "Now, tell me – for

whom are your flowers?"

He flinched, as her question hit him like a soft slap on the face.

"Come on, Chandra, tell me," her insistent voice refused to let him go.

Unsure as to how to address her, Chandra held out his flowers in mute

offering.

"For me! Then, why don't you shower them on me?" Taara laughed. "But,

wait … no … not like this … not while I am standing … " She lay back on

the soft carpet of blossoms which covered the ground. Beauty personified,

she reclined on her bed of flowers – one slender hand pillowed her head;

the other encircled her waist; one leg was bent upright at the knee.

Chandra stared at her as if in a trance.

"Now, Chandra: bathe me in flowers!" She smiled sensuously. "Slowly,

slowly! Don't throw them – I want to be drenched in a gentle shower of

blossoms."

Gathering his courage, Chandra rained flowers lightly on Taara. His

trembling hand gradually steadied. He was a devotee at the altar of her

beauty, worshipping her exquisite body with his blossoms.

"Chandra," her voice reached him softly from the depths of the bower. "Do

you know whom you look like now?" She paused. "You are Vasantha,

Manmatha's deputy – he who aids the god of love in adorning the virgin

goddess of nature."

Chandra emptied his upper garment over her and gazed adoringly at Taara's

flower-smothered body. She glowed like a lissome creeper bearing a

profusion of multi hued blossoms along its curvaceous length. Her radiant

face turned up towards him like a sunflower. Her pristine teeth sparkled like

jasmine buds.

"You have not yet answered my two questions," she reminded him archly.

He looked down questioningly at her.

"It looks like I will first have to tutor you in the art of conversation!" Taara

smiled indulgently and reached up to take his hand. "Come here, Chandra."

She pulled him down gently to sit close beside her. "Now, tell me: what is

my name?"

"Taara …"

"Very well. Now, tell me why you do not address me as 'mother,' as proper

for a disciple?" She looked directly at him. "Tell me, Chandra. I will have

an answer from you now."

"I dislike calling you so," he mumbled softly.

"Oh! Is that so?" She laughed. "Then, call me Taara!"

His eyes widened in surprise at her daring. Her own eyes wordlessly

reinforced the command of her tender, leaf-like lips, tremulous in the cool

breeze which reached into the bower.

As if of their own accord, his lips murmured, "Taara …"

"Yes! Chandra, call me Taara!"

Had she not heard him? He repeated in a firmer voice, "Taara …"

She laughed in undiluted pleasure. "There is something in the way you say

my name … I don't know what it is … it makes my heart sing!" She paused.

"I heard you the first time … but I want to hear it again and again!" Her

infectious smile was now mirrored in his own face.

"Do you know that you are even handsomer when you smile?" she asked.

"Now, answer my second question: who is more beautiful – your mother or

I?"

He had forgotten the question she had asked at their meal together: how

long ago it seemed! He gazed into the bottomless pools of her eyes. Her

garment of flowers rose and fell with each sweet breath, as if ruffled by a

gentle zephyr. Her own glowing body highlighted the luster of the

blossoms.

"Tell me, Chandra. Who is more beautiful – your mother or I?" She

repeated her question with a mocking smile on her lips.

An image of his lovely mother flashed before his mind's eye and realization

dawned at the same time: his mother's beauty was healing balm – Taara's

was inciting flame; his mother's loveliness wrapped him in calm repose –

Taara's banished sleep from his eyes.

She pressed his hand insistently. "If you don't answer, I will have to call my

parrot." She laughed teasingly. "So, tell me now: who is more beautiful,

your mother or I?"

"You …" he murmured. "You are more beautiful." His eyes roved hungrily

over her body, feasting on its lithe beauty.

"And do you know who is handsomer: you or my husband?" she asked.

He gasped at her presumption: "Taara!"

"Come on, ask me!" she urged. Her fingers stroked his hands, working their

magic on his senses.

"Taara …" was all that he could say.

She took his palm and placed it against her petal-soft cheek. "I will tell you

even if you refuse to ask: you are handsomer than my husband." Her voice

grew husky with desire. "Chandra, come close to me."

"Taara …" again, it was the only word he could muster.

Her roving hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Closer … closer! I want you

close to my heart!"

Her voice rang with passion.

A last cry of sanity escaped his lips: "Master!?" only to be silenced by her

own searching lips.

"I will not allow even a breath of air to intrude between us – leave alone

your master!"

Her arms were unassailable creepers entwining his neck. He laid his cheek

against hers. Like the river making its immutable way into the sea, Chandra

melted into her exquisite loveliness.

Chandra turned on his mat and smiled in recollected pleasure. He continued

his musing. He had fallen under the spell of Taara's eyes right from the

moment of his arrival at the hermitage. One look at her face through the

window and he was lost! What was the secret of his instinctive cleaving to

her? Could it be the strength of intimate bonds in their previous

incarnations?

"Meet me at the river before sunrise. We will frolic in the cool water while

the rest of the world still slumbers."

Taara's final words rang sweetly in his ears with their promise of pleasures

to come.

He smiled once more and finally sank into sleep.

Chandra half-reclined on the grassy knoll, watching Taara sport in the river.

She had the soul of a mermaid – her hands were golden creepers parting the

water in clean strokes; now, she floated on her back in delicious lassitude;

now, she flashed under the waves like a shoal of silver fish. Chandra drank

in her loveliness. Treading water, she looked up at him. Her face was a lotus

with its floating tendrils of moss-like hair.

She called out to him: "Come on, Chandra!"

He shook his head in refusal, preferring his grandstand view of her

exquisite body. Taara quickly swam towards the shore and came to her feet

in the shallows. The water lapped about her slender waist. Chandra felt the

heat rise in him. She raised her arms to knot her long hair and then stretched

her hand out to him. Chandra rose to help her out of the water. In a

twinkling, he was thrashing in the water beside the triumphantly laughing

Taara. As he came up for breath, her golden hands reached out for him,

making him breathless once more.

Brhaspati was in the midst of a demanding lecture, as Chandra

unobtrusively made his way towards the last row of attentive disciples. As

he silently bent to sit,

"Chandra!" Brhaspati's voice cracked through the air like a whiplash.

Chandra froze.

"Where have you been?" The innocuous words were pregnant with

dangerous undercurrents.

"To the river … master … for a bath …" He could not for the life of him

conceal the guilty flush which suffused his face.

"Why did you not join your fellow-disciples in their morning ablutions?"

The stern voice continued inexorably, "Why did you go to the river

separately?"

Chandra thought for a moment. What if someone had noticed that he and

Taara were absent from the hermitage at the same time? It would serve no

purpose to be caught in a lie.

"Master, I accompanied the master's wife to the river – at her command."

He bent his head.

Brhaspati admonished him gravely: "Chandra, your primary task here is to

study. Your second duty is towards your master. There is absolutely no

excuse for a disciple to serve the master's wife during study hours." He

paused and continued seriously. "Focus on your study and prove yourself

worthy of the name Aatreya – son of sage Atri."

"Yes, master," Chandra murmured.

"And one more thing. It has come to my attention that you are devoting a

major part of your time towards carrying out your gurupatni’s orders. Let

me make it clear to you that the ashram’s daily routine does not require

your helping hand. I will inform my wife accordingly. From this moment, I

expect you to dedicate yourself single-mindedly to your duties as a

student."

"Yes, master."

Brhaspati signaled with his hand for Chandra to be seated and resumed his

lesson. Chandra looked stealthily towards the ashram . His eyes caught the

flutter of Taara's saree as she silently moved away from the open window.

It was past midnight. Chandra wandered distractedly about the garden,

coming back again and again to the hidden bower. Why was Taara not here?

Would she come? Surely her signal meant that she would meet him here?

Had Brhaspati delayed her? A spasm of rage rose in his breast against his

master.

Coming to his senses with a start, Chandra realized the need to avoid the

watchful eyes of the maidservant or an encounter with a sleepless disciple.

He hurried into the concealment of the arbour. Suddenly, an invigorating

fragrance wafted in on the breeze. In its wake came the mellifluous tinkling

of anklets. Chandra's heart raced in excitement. Taara!

"Chandra …" Her voice was low and seeking.

He hurried out of the bower. Taara rushed towards him in an agony of

urgent longing. A sudden gust of wind blew her upper garment over

Chandra's face: he was a willing fish caught in the net of desire. Taara fell

into his arms. He clasped her tightly to his breast.

He pressed his ear against her lips which whispered, "Chandra!"

With one mind, they entered the bower and sat locked in a tight embrace.

"Taara," said Chandra with a heavy heart, "The last two days have been

endless ."

"For me too, my dearest. But, you know we have to be cautious. That's why

I did not attempt to meet you."

"Taara … Taara … Taara … I never tire of saying your beloved name."

Her hands were creepers of love entwined round his neck. She gently pulled

his head down to rest on her lap.

"I want to shout your name out loud to the world – it is hard to be silent," he

said.

She smiled down tenderly at him. "We are fated to love each other in secret,

dearest." Her fingers stroked his hair.

Chandra sat up in a sudden burst of anger. "I refuse to accept that," he shot

back at her. "I will not let the world come between us!"

"Chandra!" She hushed him, placing her fingertips against his lips.

He persisted: "We must be with each other through every moment of our

lives. Just the two of us, living in ecstatic isolation in a world of our own."

Taara caressed his cheeks. "I too want to live with you forever, love."

"Then, come with me!" There was an urgent anxiety in his words.

"Where can we go, dearest?"

"To a place where none can intrude on our love."

"Is there such a place, Chandra?" She tenderly held his face between her

two hands and sighed.

"Yes, there is – my personal abode."

"Your abode?" she asked in surprise. "You mean your parental home? The

hermitage?"

"No! Viswakarma has built a palace for me: it awaits my coming once I am

done with my education and am married."

"Really?"

Chandra smiled. "I was done with my education the very first day I

glimpsed your beautiful eyes through the hermitage window!"

Taara caressed his arms.

Chandra continued: ‘As for my marriage, that has also taken place – with

you! It was solemnized when I held your hand." He bent to place a gentle

kiss on her palms. "It has the sanction of our scriptures as paanigraham –

holding of the bride's hand." He continued resolutely. "Soon, I will take you

away secretly. Again, this is in line with the scriptures, as ordained for the

asura clan: rakshas vivah.”

"Chandra … will all this really come to pass?" she asked wistfully.

He insisted firmly, "It will. You were born to be mine. Your marriage to

Brhaspati was but a prelude to your life as my wife."

Taara pressed close to him. Her lips whispered into his ears: "Chandra, at

first I tormented myself with the thought that you would run away from my

grasp like a frightened child. But now, you are a man – and you are mine."

"And do you know when I became a man?" he whispered in his turn,

caressing her ear with his lips. "I became a man when I first embraced the

beautiful Taara."

She tore herself reluctantly from his arms and said, "Tomorrow morning,

your master leaves for Indra's court."

Chandra gave a subdued laugh and clapped his hands soundlessly. "Good!

The disciples will go to the woods to collect kindling and Punjikasthala will

go to the river to fill the empty pots!"

‘And we …?" asked Taara.

"We will be together, my love. We will be together for all eternity."

Brhaspati sat on his customary dais under the tree, awaiting his disciples'

arrival for their morning tuition.

"Om! Om! Om !"

The guru looked up in smiling approval as the primeval chant echoed from

the boughs above his head: it was the ashram parrot, fluttering its wings

among the foliage! It was a matter of pride to Brhaspati that his favorite

parrot faithfully recited the chants which he taught his pupils. After all, it

was generally acknowledged that, in a truly pious hermitage, parrots

chanted Vedic hymns, while lions and deer lived in happy harmony.

The parrot's chant was a clarion call to the disciples, who were soon

assembled before their master in orderly rows. Brhaspati took in the

familiar faces – everyone was present … no … where was Chandra? Before

he could question his students, Punjikasthala hurried to him.

"Master … " the maidservant hesitated. Brhaspati urged her on with an

impatient gesture of his hand.

"Your respected wife is not in the hermitage … " she stood with downcast

eyes.

"What! Taara is not at home?" Brhaspati blurted in surprise. "How can that

be? She was here yesterday when I left for Indra's court!"

"She is not to be found, master," murmured Punjikasthala.

A murmur of excitement ran through the class.

"What is the meaning of this, Punjika?" Brhaspati frowned.

"I do not know, master. She vanished after your eminence left for

Swargaloka. I assumed she had accompanied you …"

A senior student stood up politely and seconded the girl: "Yes, gurudev, we

also assumed that Mother Taaradevi and Chandra were with you …"

Brhaspati's eyes narrowed. "I went alone." A note of criticism crept into his

voice. "You should have kept an eye on Chandra …"

"We last saw him near the river in the early hours of the morning, master,"

the disciple replied. "He did not join us in our ablutions."

Abandoning his class, Brhaspati paced thoughtfully aside for a few minutes.

Then, he turned to the whispering disciples. "Perhaps they have gone to the

woods to forage for sacrificial twigs and holy grass or kindling … " He

cleared his throat, attempting to rein in his galloping thoughts. "Sanaathana,

take Suneeta and a few other senior disciples and go in search of them in

the forest. I fear they may have met with some untoward accident."

He turned to Punjikasthala. "Punjika, prepare food for all."

He hushed the excited chattering of the class with a curt gesture. "The rest

of you – recite yesterday's hymns."

In the intervening moment of silence, "Come on, Chandra!" The call rang

merrily from above.

Brhaspati looked up in dismay at his clever parrot.

"Come on, Chandra!" Taara's warm invitation reached out to caress

Chandra's ears, as he stood on the threshold of his abode, gazing at the

profusion of flowering plants which filled the garden with a riot of colour.

He turned in obedience to her melodious call and returned to the

bedchamber. Taara stood near the bed which was piled high with the softest

of eiderdown mattresses. He came to stand beside her, encircling her

slender waist with his hand.

She leaned back to rest her head on his broad shoulder. "What a beautiful

bed!" she exclaimed.

"It was created by Viswakarma, the divine architect," Chandra added with a

smile: "for you!"

Taara shook her head wryly. "No, Chandra, this palace and its contents were

specifically created for you." She continued passionately. "But, now, I want

everything! Forever! The feather-soft beds, the golden swings – everything

is mine for all eternity! Will you let me have it all?"

Chandra smiled fondly. "Beloved, why such sudden vehemence?"

"I am sick and tired of the ashram’s frugality. Coarse grass mats for beds,

rough deerskin quilts, roots and leaves for meals … Ugh!" She snorted

delicately in disgust. "I hate ugly things!"

She turned to face him. "Look at me, Chandra," she commanded.

Chandra obeyed her with pleasure, his eyes roving passionately over her

lithe, exquisite body. She was beauty sublime. She had been created for him

alone: not Brhaspati!

"How do I look?" she asked.

"You are a fragile, golden creeper … " he paused to draw her close. ‘And I

am the pillar of support about which you will twine."

"Can a creeper be condemned to lie on coarse grass mats and animal

skins?"

"Never again, my love," Chandra declared vehemently. "I will never allow

that to happen. That is why I dared to bring you here to our Abode of

Bliss!"

A teasing smile played about her lips. "Then, tell me, where should this

beautiful creeper rest?"

Chandra pointed to the bed and whispered: "There, on the softest of beds."

She gazed into his eyes. "Not there, my Chandra," she laid her soft cheek

against his broad chest, "But here!" Eyes melting in love, he looked into her

upturned face. Her own eyes mirrored his emotion. He pressed her to him

passionately.

"Chandra, can I ask you for something?"

‘Anything, my love, anything!" he whispered against her hair.

"I want a son who reflects your beauty …" her voice was a murmur against

his breast.

Chandra tightened his embrace.

The extended search for Chandra and Taara led nowhere. Brhaspati was

forced to admit that his wife, in the throes of infatuation, had eloped with

his pupil. However, he held fast to the hope that she would soon realize her

folly and return to him. After all, Taara was his adored wife, a gift from

Brahma himself! He continued with the routine of the ashram, instructing

his disciples and executing his duties at Indra's court. Punjikasthala

managed the household chores.

Brhaspati did not confide in Indra: he was aware that the king of the devas

accorded Taara the reverence due to a mother – as befitting the consort of

their preceptor. He was unwilling to disabuse Indra of his good opinion,

confident that Taara would soon be back and no one outside the ashram any

the wiser.

The golden swing, carrying its precious burden, came flying towards

Chandra. He extended his hands and gave it a gentle push. His heart

clenched at Taara's sweet smile as the swing swept her away from him. As

the swing carried her to him again, he was flooded with the fierce pride of

possession. Just as the swing, which tried to carry her away, irresistibly

brought her back to him again and again, so it would be with any opposing

force in the world! She was his and his alone!

As the swing arched through the air and reached him, Taara jumped into his

inviting arms. She rested her head against his shoulder and murmured, "I

am tired."

"Tired of your favorite past time so soon this morning?!" He smiled down

indulgently at her.

"The swing makes me giddy," she said softly.

"Yet, earlier, you could swing for hours with me pushing you!" he teased.

Taara looked enigmatically into his eyes. "Chandra," she said, "Look at

me." He continued to gaze into her exquisite face.

She smiled at him. "Oh, your sweet innocence! What am I to do with you!"

She paused and continued in a serious tone. "I no longer enjoy swinging

because a little copy of you is swinging in my womb!"

"Really?" he was ecstatic. He pressed her tenderly to his chest and kissed

the top of her head.

She murmured softly against him. "It is only now that I understand

Brahma's blessing: 'Your one-fold marriage to Brhaspati will bring you two-

fold happiness!'" She caressed his strong shoulders. "Truly my joy is

multiplied many times over!"

Brhaspati, coming to the end of his morning worship, folded his hands in

silent prayer.

"Narayana! Narayana!" The familiar chant carried to him, announcing the

arrival of sage Narada, the quintessential cosmic messenger.

Brhaspati hurried to welcome his guest. "Pranam, revered sage."

Brhaspati bowed to receive Narada's blessing. "May you soon be reconciled

with your estranged wife!"

Brhaspati gave a startled gasp: "Narada!"

The sage smiled gently. "Brhaspati, why are you surprised at my knowledge

of your wife's extended absence?" He paused. "After all, the dissemination

of information is the purpose of my creation by my father, Brahma!"

Brhaspati remained speechless, with downcast eyes.

The sage continued, "Call off your disciples' futile search of the forest –

Taara and Chandra are not there."

Brhaspati looked up in rising hope. "Narada, do you know Taara's

whereabouts?"

"Of course, Brhaspati. Taara shares the beautiful abode constructed for

Chandra by the inimitable Viswakarma."

The deva-guru flushed and asked haltingly, "Narada … how … how is

Taara?"

"Oh, Taara is in the pink of health and spirits: in fact, she seems to be

happier with your pupil than with you."

Brhaspati lowered his head.

"Chandra has established her there as his wife. Let me give you the location

of his Abode of Bliss. Then, you can dispatch some of your disciples to him

as emissaries."

"Come on, Chandra!"

Brhaspati jumped as Taara's voice intruded on his dark thoughts. He looked

up at the parrot preening itself among the foliage of the tree. That accursed

bird! He would willingly wring its neck – or reduce it to cinders with a

curse! He sighed and controlled his unreasonable rage: at least the faithful

parrot had given him ample warning that his wife was enamored of

Chandra. He continued to gaze at the spreading branches of the tree, where

flowers had matured into fruits, marking the inexorable passage of time. He

sighed. His hope that Taara would return had dimmed to the faintest,

flickering ember.

Following Narada's counsel, Brhaspati had dispatched his senior disciples

to Chandra's abode to fetch Taara, making Chandra see the error of his

ways. The mission was a fiasco: Taara had lashed out viciously at them,

while Chandra had intimidated them with threats and manhandled them out

of his home.

Brhaspati himself, swallowing his self-respect, had personally gone to plead

with the recalcitrant couple. He had excused himself, thinking, After all,

Chandra is my disciple … and Taara is my lawfully wedded wife … she

deserves my forgiveness.'

Even as he attempted to convince Chandra that sleeping with his preceptor's

wife was one of the five cardinal sins, the arrogant young man shot back:

"This is not your ashram : Let's not have any of your lectures on morality

here!" Chandra looked down with disdain at his former guru. "And, for

your information, it is also a cardinal sin to reject a lady who desires to be

loved."

Brhaspati flushed at Chandra's vitriolic tone. Rubbing salt into his wounds,

Taara gave a haughty toss of her head and burst into mocking laughter. He

had endured a life-time of humiliation in that brief encounter.

"Pranam, gurudev!" Brhaspati looked up to find Indra before him.

"Mahendra!"

"You have abandoned my court, gurudev!" There was a note of reproach in

his voice. "And you have failed to confide in me Mother Taara's elopement

with that callow youth, Chandra."

"Yes, Indra – I foolishly convinced myself that it would all turn out well

shortly." Brhaspati stood with downcast eyes.

"Take heart gurudev : you have also failed to take into consideration the

depth of reverence in which the devas hold their preceptor." He sniffed in

disdain. "Forget those foolish elopers – I assure you that I will find you a

more beautiful and virtuous wife than the errant Taara."

"Mahendra!" Brhaspati gasped.

"Yes, gurudev ," Indra continued staunchly. "By embracing her husband's

disciple, Taara has forfeited both her chastity and her place as your wife."

Brhaspati addressed the king of the devas gravely: "Indra, let me tell you a

little known fact of dharma – a woman is cleansed of the sin of adultery by

her monthly curse. Her menstruation flushes her body of impurities and

makes her chaste once more."

Indra listened attentively. To him, the guru’s word was law. He bowed his

head, acknowledging Brhaspati's vast wisdom. "Gurudev, as always, I defer

to your wishes. In that case, I shall fetch Taaradevi and offer her at your

holy feet as my guru dakshina!" He stood resolutely. "I will not hesitate to

wage war against the feckless Chandra to gain my objective."

Brhaspati held out his hand in benediction. "May victory be yours, Indra!"

Vrshaparva ascended his throne, eager to deal with several pending affairs

of state. Acharya Usana, the rakshasa-guru, was seated in his place of

honor on the king's right. Just as the crowded assembly of asuras came to

order, a stentorian voice rang through the vast hall:

"Victory to Emperor Vrshaparva!" It was Timiraasura: the king's trusted

emissary and spy extraordinaire. All heads turned expectantly towards the

new arrival, as he approached the throne and bowed in salutation.

"Ah, Timiraasura!" Vrshaparva boomed. "Your haste suggests that you

come with information of great importance." He raised his bushy eyebrows

in interrogation.

"Yes, my king. I bring you momentous tidings which will gladden your

heart."

The asuras were now all ears. There was pin-drop silence in the court as the

spy cleared this throat.

"My lord, you know that Brhaspati, the deva-guru, married Taara. Now,

Taara has eloped with Chandra, one of Brhaspati's disciples. Chandra has

established her as his own wife in his private abode and is reveling in her

company day and night. Brhaspati, hopelessly infatuated with Taara, has

made several futile attempts to reclaim his wife: both personally and

through his envoys." He gave a significant pause. "Now, Indra, king of the

devas , has given Brhaspati his sworn word that he will reclaim Taara for

him: even at the cost of waging war against the young Chandra …"

"Enough!" Vrshaparva thundered. "What a caboodle of nonsense! Have you

lost your mind, Timira?" He snorted in disgust. "What is it to us if some

besotted boy chooses to elope with his master's wife?" He glowered at the

spy. "If you have information of real import, let's hear it, or else …"

Usana intervened with a placatory gesture. "Just a moment, Vrshaparva, just

a moment." He continued thoughtfully. "There may be more to this than

meets the eye." '

He turned to the nervous spy. "Now, Timira, give us the other details you

have gathered."

The relieved spy continued: "Master, I have discovered that Indra is ready

to send an envoy to Chandra with an ultimatum: either return the truant

Taara to Brhaspati or face the devas' wrath."

Usana jumped up from his seat in excitement. "There is not a moment to be

lost! Vrshaparva, I must set out immediately!"

The rakshasa king looked at him in bewilderment. "Where to, master?"

"To Chandra's abode."

"Master! To that feckless boy's residence?… You, in person? … But, why?"

Vrshaparva was aghast.

Usana laughed. "To ensure that Chandra does not cave in to Indra's

ultimatum."

"But, why, master? Why do you want to get involved in this foolish

romantic caper?"

"Think, Vrshaparva," Usana urged. "If Chandra refuses to surrender Taara,

what will Indra's next move be?"

"To honor his ultimatum, Indra will be forced to declare war on Chandra."

"Exactly! And what will happen if we in turn declare our support for

Chandra?" He paused to smile at the frowning rakshasa king. "Let me tell

you: once we have entered the fray, this little contretemps between Indra

and Chandra will explode into a full-scale war between the devas and the

asuras . The devas will be vanquished and the glory of Swargaloka will be

yours!"

Vrshaparva's face was wreathed in the broadest of smiles. He rose from his

throne and saluted his mentor. "Gurudev , we asuras are indeed fortunate to

have you as our preceptor! What guile! What brilliant strategy!"

Usana smiled and walked quickly to the hall's main exit.

Chandra gazed in perplexity at the majestic personage standing at his

threshold. He bowed instinctively in deference. "Greetings, Aarya! May I

know who you are?"

"Chandra, I am Acharya Usana, the preceptor of the asuras ."

Chandra folded his hands in respect. "And to what do I owe the honor of

your visit, revered Acharya ?"

Usana looked earnestly at him and announced, "I am here to defend you

against imminent peril."

"Peril?!" Chandra gasped.

"Yes." Usana paused for effect. "Taara and you face great danger." Usana's

authoritarian tone captured Chandra's undivided attention. "Come, let us go

inside and discuss these grave developments."

Seated closely side-by-side, Chandra and Taara waited anxiously on

Usana's words.

"A sinister conspiracy has been hatched to separate you from each other –"

the rakshasa-guru started somberly.

Chandra and Taara looked at each other in shocked surprise. Chandra tried

to comment, but words failed him.

Usana continued inexorably: "Indra has given his word to his preceptor,

Brhaspati, that he will present Taara to him as guru-dakshina . He has

sworn to declare war on you if you remain intransigent."

Taara reached out to clasp Chandra's fingers with her own. Chandra patted

her hand and turned anxious eyes towards Usana, who continued: "Indra's

envoy is on his way here even as we speak. He will deliver an ultimatum to

you: either surrender Taara to Brhaspati or confront the might of the deva

army. He will threaten to lay siege to your abode …"

Chandra blanched and put his arm protectively round Taara. He remained

speechless.

Usana's strong voice brimmed with assurance, as his powerful gaze held

Chandra's: "Chandra, do not fear. Your adored Taara will remain with you."

"But … I … I cannot face Indra's army …" Chandra murmured with

downcast eyes.

"You will not be called upon to confront the devas. The formidable asura

army, under the able command of my disciple, King Vrshaparva, will be

your bulwark against Indra's aggression. The deva’s will taste defeat if they

move against you. I give you my word that, henceforth, both of you will be

under asura protection."

Chandra and Taara exchanged looks. The alarm in their eyes gave place to

relief and growing confidence. They turned to Usana with one accord and

touched his feet in respect.

"Master," said Chandra, "We are deeply touched by your affection for us

and your compassionate understanding of our love for each other." He

choked with emotion. "We are indeed blessed to have your friendship."

A sardonic smile flitted across Usana's face. He locked eyes with Chandra

and declared proudly: "I, Usana, preceptor of the asuras, do not

dissimulate! It is neither affection nor compassion which has earned you the

rakshasas’ support. We are willing to take up arms on your behalf for one

reason alone: our all-consuming hatred for the devas."

He rose majestically and prepared to leave. As Chandra and Taara bowed in

respect, he said, "Chandra, have faith in me. Do not be intimidated by

Indra's threats. Challenge him to war!" He paused, his eyes on Taara. "Do

not withdraw your protection from this innocent maid who trustingly placed

her life in your care."

He lifted his hand in blessing. "May victory be yours!"

Usana's inspirational words, and promise of support, bolstered Chandra's

confidence. Indra's envoy was confronted by a haughty Taara, and a

belligerent Chandra, who defiantly threw Indra's ultimatum back in his face.

"I dare Indra to do his worst!" Chandra spat at the envoy.

Indra mounted his war chariot, driven by Maatali, and set out for Chandra's

abode at the head of his army. Brhaspati accompanied him. As they reached

the objective of their assault, the devas were shocked to find the asura army

arrayed in a protective phalanx around the palace. Vrshaparva and Usana

stood in the vanguard of this terrible force of demons. At the sight of the

devas , the rakshasas raised blood curdling battle cries that shook the earth

and the skies like the roar of thunder. With a sinister clash, thousands of

weapons sprang up from the massed body of aggressive demons.

"Naraya …"

Sage Narada, travelling across the sky, bit off his sacred chant as the

threatening rumble reached his ears. One startled look downward and he

summed up the crises. In the blink of an eye, the sage stood before Brahma,

explaining how Chandra's elopement with Taara had culminated in the

devas and asuras confronting each other on the battlefield. The anxious

Brahma jumped up from his lotus throne and hurried from Satyaloka.

Brahma, Narada by his side, stood between the two armies poised on the

brink of war.

Brahma sternly confronted Usana and Vrshaparva: "I am amazed at your

presence here! Surely, a trifling romantic misadventure cannot be the cause

of war between you and the devas! Furthermore, Chandra's elopement is

categorically a sin: it cannot be justified on any count. Reflect on your

actions!"

He turned towards the devas and beckoned Brhaspati and Indra forward. "I

trust that you will display the patience and fortitude which are in keeping

with your nature," he said, a tinge of reproach in his voice.

Brahma made his way to Chandra's palatial residence, where Taara and

Chandra saluted him with folded hands.

The Creator reprimanded them harshly: "You have both abandoned the path

of dharma and succumbed to mere lust. Your double betrayal of Brhaspati,

who is both husband and master, has caused him indescribable torment."

His voice dripped with sarcasm as he continued: "Of course, it goes without

saying that you have derived untold pleasure from your carnal sins – let that

suffice!"

Brahma's words rang in the chamber with the relentless clarity of a bell.

The Creator's penetrating glance bore into Chandra like a knife.

The youth thought in chagrin, 'This is what my own soul whispers to me.'

On her part, Taara conceded sadly, 'Brahma's words have the undeniable

ring of truth.'

Brahma turned to look at Taara. Bearing the baby in her womb, she was a

plump lotus bud. His gaze softened. "Taara. I hope you now understand the

meaning of my blessing: ‘Your one-fold marriage to Brhaspati will bring

you two-fold happiness!'" He smiled gently at her. "Return to the husband

decreed for you by fate. Be happy in his service!"

As Taara touched his feet in respect, Brahma blessed her: "Long may you

live with your husband!"

He turned back to Chandra. "As for you, young Chandra, Taara rightfully

belongs to your master. You will personally hand her over to your guru –

that will be your expiation for your sin."

Chadra bowed in obedience to Brahma. Chandra then slowly turned to

Taara with an aching smile and reached out to take her hand. Taara's fingers

entwined his like a creeper seeking the blessed support of a sturdy branch.

Their eyes locked in an agony of yearning. It seemed as though eons of

unsaid endearments and affection were compressed into those fleeting

moments. Taara blinked back her unshed tears and straightened her

shoulders.

Brahma stood with a gentle smile on his face, watching Chandra and Taara

walk away from him.

A happy murmur ran through the waiting crowd of disciples as Brhaspati

descended from Indra's chariot with Taara beside him. Refusing to

acknowledge anyone, including Punjikasthala, Taara quickly followed her

husband indoors.

Brhaspati made his way directly to the chamber of worship. He folded his

hands in prayer and gave thanks to god. He then turned to his wife: Taara

stood statue-like before him, her face devoid of expression.

Brhaspati said gently, "Welcome back home, Taara."

A faint tremor passed through her body. Her delicate lips were tender leaves

ruffled by the breeze. A veil of tears shaded her lovely eyes. She started

forward and bent to touch Brhaspati's feet, hampered by the weight of her

pregnancy.

Brhaspati tenderly raised her up and gazed into her eyes. "I have regained

my lost treasure," he whispered.

At these words, Taara burst into heaving sobs. Scalding tears coursed down

her smooth cheeks.

"Swami … Forgive me … I have betrayed you …" She wept inconsolably.

Brhaspati wiped her tears with gentle fingers. "No, Taara, it is Chandra who

has betrayed me." He tilted her chin up. "Look at me. We all have

nightmares – we will consider this to be one such unpleasant dream and

forget it."

"Swami …" she whispered.

"Yes, Taara, we will move on." He stopped to look proudly at her swollen

stomach. "Brhaspati's lineage – the Angiras gothra – will flourish through

you!" His voice mellowed. "I cannot live without you, Taara."

She gazed up at him through tear-filled eyes.

Taara brought a baby boy into the world at an auspicious moment under the

aegis of the Poorvaabhaadra star. Brhaspati's ashram resounded with joy.

Narada spread the glad tidings far and wide. Indra and the devas celebrated

the birth of their preceptor's son.

The boy's naming ceremony was held at the hermitage. Angiras and

Sraddha were there to bless their grandson, while Brahma, Narada and the

devas graced the occasion with their presence.

Angiras turned to his son: "Brhaspati, have you decided the boy's name?"

"Brhaspati does not have the right to name my son!"

All eyes turned in the direction of the angry voice – it was Chandra! Taara

froze with the infant in her lap.

Brhaspati, seated beside her in the midst of the jaatakarma rites, jumped up

in fury, his eyes blazing red. "You! … you despicable betrayer of the sacred

guru-sishya relationship!" He spat out his words in contempt. "You stole

my wife – now you are here to steal my son. You will not escape

retribution! Get out!" He moved threateningly forward.

Chandra stood his ground resolutely. "That boy is my son. If you choose to

delude yourself otherwise, you are merely claiming my lineage as yours!"

He laughed mockingly.

Brhaspati shouted, "Silence! It is my blood which runs in the boy's veins."

"You may continue to believe so. But, none can stop me from claiming my

own son." Chandra moved towards the cowering Taara.

"Stop right there, Chandra!" Brhaspati thundered.

Indra jumped up. "Gurudev, stay calm." He turned angrily towards the

intruder. "Let me deal with this turn-coat."

"Indra! Chandra!" Brahma's stern voice intervened, commanding their

instant obedience. "Do not turn the ashram into a battlefield."

The Creator turned to Brhaspati. "Brhaspati, keep a tight rein on your

emotions."

The deva-guru protested: "Grandsire, this concerns the crucial issue of my

lineage. Chandra …"

Brahma silenced him with a curt gesture. "Neither you nor Chandra can

judge the baby's paternity. It is only the mother who can bear witness to the

father's true identity. "

"I agree with Lord Brahma." It was sage Angiras.

Brahma turned to Taara. "Taara, take the child and come with me."

Taara followed him obediently with the baby in her arms. All eyes

anxiously awaited their return. Brhaspati and Chandra smiled confidently at

the guests, and glowered at each other, in turn.

After a few moments, Taara entered the room with downcast eyes. Her arms

were empty. Then, Brahma followed, carrying the infant. There was pin

drop silence in the hall.

The Creator mounted the dais and pronounced his judgement: ‘A child's

lineage must be proven beyond the least doubt. It is the mother alone who

can assert categorically from whose loins springs the child she bears. I have

explained the crucial importance of this principle to Taara." He paused and

held out the child. "Does he belong to Brhaspati? … Does he belong to

Chandra? …" He paused again. "Taara has revealed the truth of the boy's

paternity …" He looked round at his attentive audience.

"Chandra is the boy's father!" Brahma's voice resounded across the

chamber. "In your presence, I name the child, ‘Budha,'and give him to his

father, Chandra."

Brhaspati stood in speechless surprise. Chandra saluted Brahma and gently

took the child into his arms.

Brahma advised, "Chandra, Budha is your son. Raise him well and devote

the utmost attention to his education. Like yourself, he is to be anointed as

one of the Navagrahas."

Chandra bowed in respect. "I beg your leave to hand Budha into the

safekeeping of my father, sage Atri."

"You have my permission, Chandra – you may now leave."

Taara gazed yearningly at Chandra's receding figure through tear- filled

eyes.

Brahma turned to Brhaspati. "Brhaspati, take heart: your lineage will endure

and flourish. Taara will bear you many descendants."

The Creator held out his hand in benediction over the deva-guru. Brhaspati

bowed his head in reverence.

‘Aadityaaya cha Somaaya Mangalaaya Budhaayacha

Guru Sukra Sanibhyascha Raahave Ketave….’

I offer my salutations to Aditya, Soma, Mangala, Budha, Guru, Sukra,

Sani, Rahu and Ketu

Nirvikalpananda recited the familiar chant to the Navagrahas and paused to

consider his disciples. ‘And now, we come to the birth of the remaining

grahas in their respective order."

A stir of excitement ran through his four sishyas.

Sadananda burst out: "Master, then it is time to hear about Sani!"

Nirvikalpananda smiled at his enthusiasm. "Yes, Sani is the seventh of the

Navagrahas. The story of his birth is filled with extraordinary events and

unexpected twists." He paused. "Sani is Surya's son. So, let's go back a little

in our narrative – We know that Surya married Samjna, Viswakarma's

daughter, and set up house in an isolated palace. Do you recall that Samjna

asked Surya to bless her with two boys and a girl?"

The disciples nodded eagerly.

"Well, Surya did grant her wish …"

"Ah!" interjected Shivananda, "Sani was one of the three children!"

The master smiled indulgently. "No, Shivananda: the elder son was

Vaivasvatha, the second was Yama and the daughter was Yami. Vivaswaan

being one of Surya's twelve names, the elder son was called Vaivasvatha.

He was in fact the Vaivasvatha manu who became the progenitor of the

Surya dynasty. Ikshwaaku, Nagaa, Saryaathi, and other well-known

personages, were his descendants."

He paused and looked at his attentive disciples. "Coming to the second son,

Yama, he was none other than Yamadharmaraja: the god of death. The girl,

Yami, took form as the river Yamuna … "

"Oh-ho, master," marveled Vimalananda, "So, Sani was born as their

youngest brother?"

Nirvikalpananda gave a gentle laugh. "Now, now – let me tell you the story

in its entirety!"

His voice grew serious again. "Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami grew up under

their parents' protection. At the time of our present tale, they were young

children. One night … "

The master resumed his discourse.

The Birth of Sani

A n uneasy silence lay over Surya's abode. The noise of children at play

was conspicuously absent as Surya walked into the bed chamber.

Samjna stood motionless at the open window, gazing up at the sky. Her

saree fluttered in the breeze, emphasizing the beauty of her body,

silhouetted against the evening light. Surya came to stand close behind her

and placed his hands gently on her slender shoulders.

Samjna flinched and jerked away from his touch. She gave him a fleeting

glance before turning away quickly.

"Samjna, what are you afraid of?" Surya teased her affectionately.

To his astonishment, she admitted sombrely, "Yes, I am afraid … "

A concerned Surya moved protectively close to his wife. "Dearest, what is

it?"

Samjna moved away from him, shading her eyes with her trembling fingers.

"Shall I tell you who it is who terrifies me?" she asked in tremulous tones.

"Tell me!" Surya said angrily. "Whoever it is, I will make him pay!"

His wife made a conciliatory gesture. "Please listen first –" She paused. "It

is you I am afraid of!"

"Samjna!" Surya gasped at this bolt from the blue.

"Yes!" she reiterated. "I tremble at your presence …"

Surya approached her with outstretched arms.

"Swami, please don't come any closer!" Samjna backed away from him.

Surya froze in confused disbelief.

She continued: "Forgive me, my lord – I cannot help it: I am unable to bear

the heat you emit."

Surya could not believe his ears. He stood speechless, staring at his wife,

who continued to hide her eyes behind her outspread fingers. A faint hope

dawned in his eyes – was this some kind of joke?

He asked, "Devi, are you making me pay for some transgression?" He

smiled. "Are you angry, dearest? Is this love's penalty?"

Samjna gave an anguished cry. "No! It is not love's penalty – it is love's

curse!" She continued her outburst: "I cannot bear the fierce heat from your

body … and my eyes are blinded by the harsh glare of your inner fire!"

even as she spoke, she edged further away from him.

Surya's own eyes darkened in hurt. "Then, tell me: how did you manage to

live with me all these years?" he asked quietly.

"I endured it … what else could I do?" She appealed to him piteously.

"Don't judge me harshly, Swami ! I just cannot tolerate your fiery presence

… please stay away from me … I am in agony!" She distanced herself from

him, backing into a corner of the room.

Surya smiled gently. "Have you forgotten the days when you adored

caressing my body?" he reminded her. "Days when you said my warmth

kindled the fire of passion in your heart?"

"Those days are gone! That was in the first flush of our union – how can

you expect the excitement of novelty and intimacy to endure? I was blind to

all your faults then." She kept her face averted from him.

"Samjna!" a note of impatience crept into Surya's voice. "In effect, you are

making me an untouchable with your unreasonable attitude."

She pleaded, "Swami, don't say that!" She finally turned to face him. "Will

you do one thing for me?"

"What is it?" he asked.

"For my sake, will you reduce the intensity of your heat and radiance?"

"Impossible!" was his instinctive retort.

"Swami, I am your wife – the love of your life!" It was Samjna's turn to be

hurt. "We are everything to each other!"

"Samjna, you are everything to me!" He continued gently. "But, I cannot

grant your wish, dearest. It is beyond my power to reduce my heat and

light."

"Swami … but, why not?"

"Be reasonable, Samjna. Can you change the inherent temperature of your

body?"

She hesitantly shook her head.

"No – in the same way, I cannot alter my own natural traits." He continued

firmly. "You have to learn to tolerate my presence, as in the past." "Swami

…"

Surya brusquely brushed her hesitation aside and declared firmly: "Samjna,

until you can arm yourself adequately with shields of affection and

endurance as a protection against my innate qualities, I shall not trouble you

with my presence."

He paused and his voice softened. "I shall wait for you to come to me."

He walked away from her.

Samjna sat helplessly on the bed, her face the picture of despair.

"Swami … "

Surya looked up at his wife's soft call and smiled encouragingly at her.

"I have thought hard about my predicament … I … I cannot bear to stay

away from you …" Surya's face lit up with radiant hope.

Samjna continued: "But, I need some time to fortify myself." She paused.

"Swami, let me go to my father's house for a while. There I will have the

leisure and space to introspect and strengthen my resilience. I will come

back to you as the wife I ought to be."

Surya said gladly, "That's an excellent idea, my dear! Go … and hurry back.

I will wait eagerly for your return."

Samjna appealed to him in a tremulous voice: "Swami, until my return –

promise me that you will take care of Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami."

"Of course, dearest – but you must hurry back!" Samjna returned his tender

smile.

Samjna had no intention of going to Vishwakarma's house. She was certain

that it was impossible for her to ever again endure Surya's all– consuming

heat and light. She needed to decide on her next course of action. She was

running out of time: after a few days, Surya would go to her father's house

in search of her: her absence would become known.

She walked towards the forest, where the blessed shade of trees wrapped

her in cool benediction. She sank down beneath the spreading branches and

pondered. She was needed as Surya's wife– what was even more essential,

her dear children needed her as a mother. What was she to do?

Instinctively, Samjna slipped into a gradual, deep meditation. She remained

utterly focused on her dilemma – her eyes closed; she was lost to the world.

The hours passed. Then – a sudden tremor of excitement rippled through

her still body. Her eyes widened in eager hope.

What if there was another woman who was a replica of her own self? A

woman who was identical to her in appearance, speech and gesture: her

double in every respect? Such a clone could easily pass herself off as

Samjna and take on the role of Surya's wife and more importantly, be a

mother to her little children! The exhilarating thought of being forever free

from Surya's simmering presence brought Samjna to her feet. Oh for the

liberty to spend the rest of her life in serene penance in these cool environs!

She paced in deep thought under the trees, as dusk fell and the shadows

lengthened. It was essential to carefully fan the tiny spark of her idea into a

steady flame … she subsided on the ground once more and resumed her

meditation.

The days sped past. Samjna persisted in her single-minded search for a

solution to her predicament, using the laser-sharp light of meditation to

show the way.

It was evening. Samjna walked to the lake and seated herself by the pellucid

water. Her mind incessantly grappled with the all-important question: where

could she find a woman who was her exact double? Her eyes were

captivated by the lotus blossoms which clustered near the shore. She smiled

at their beauty – her reflection smiled back at her from the mirror of the

lake's surface. A gentle zephyr lifted her upper garment. Samjna held it

back in place. Her shadow on the water replicated her demure gesture.

Samjna's heart raced in sudden excitement. There before her was her

double! Her shadow was her clone in every way. But, it was just an adjunct

to her own body – it had no individuality, no independent form. She

frowned in thought.

Then – what if she could imbue it with a life apart from her own? What if

she could fashion it into an entity in its own right? The frisson of discovery

thrilled her being. Yes – she would fashion her replica from her shadow.

She would endow it with every trait of her personality. Her shadow would

become her doppelganger. She squared her shoulders in confidence.

This task was not beyond her: after all, she was Viswakarma's daughter!

Right from birth, she had possessed unique powers, including the ability to

assume any form at will. Imbuing her shadow with life should be simple

enough!

Samjna quickly bathed in the lake. As she turned to make her way back to

the forest, her shadow fell on the path before her. She stopped in abrupt

thought. Then, scooping up some water in her cupped hands, she closed her

eyes, softly murmured an incantation and sprinkled the water over the

shadow. To her joy, in place of the shadow, there now stood her replica,

distinct in its own right! Her doppelganger had a bewildered expression on

its face.

Samjna gently said, "You are my double," and led it to the water. "Look at

our reflections."

Her replica clapped its hands in childish glee: "We are copies of each

other."

Samjna smiled and nodded in agreement.

"What is my name?" the clone suddenly asked. Samjna gasped at the sound

of her own voice emanating uncannily from her double's mouth.

She considered a moment. "You are my shadow … so, you are Chaaya."

She paused and added, ‘And I am Samjna."

"Why did you bring me to life?" Chaaya asked curiously.

"I need a double to take my place as Surya's wife, and to be a mother to my

children," Samjna explained gravely. "With you playing the role of wife and

mother, I will be free to pursue my desired penance in the forest.

"I am your replica – so, playing your part should be easy enough!" Chaaya

smiled. "For how long must I enact your role?"

"Forever," declared Samjna. "I give you leave to enjoy my husband's

physical and intellectual companionship forever." She paused. "But only on

one condition … "

‘And what is that?" Chaaya asked.

"Just as you accept my husband as your own, you must also wholeheartedly

embrace my Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami as your children – you must

lavish your unstinting care and affection on them always."

Chaaya looked gravely at Samjna. "Samjna, you gave me life. My body and

soul belong to you by right. Your wish is my command." She paused. "I

give you my word: I will not just act – I will live the part! I will be a wife to

your husband, and a mother to your children."

Deeply moved, Samjna, said: "Chaaya, your words warm my heart.

Looking at you fills me with joy – we are so alike that I consider you my

younger twin sister."

"I too feel that you are my dear elder sister," Chaaya replied. "We are

identical twins!"

Samjna clasped Chaaya's hand affectionately and led her to her place of

meditation.

Seated close to Chaaya, Samjna continued their conversation. "Chaaya, in

order to carry off our deception, you have to know everything – and I mean

everything! – about me."

"Just tell me once, Samjna: believe me, I am a fast learner." Chaaya smiled

confidently.

Samjna was delighted with Chaaya's alacrity and quick intelligence. She

started to fill Chaaya in on the myriad details of her life. "I am

Viswakarma's daughter. My father is the son of a Vasu and is the divine

architect … "

"Samjna!" Chaaya interrupted with an impish smile. "I am Viswakarma's

daughter – not you! Tell me about myself."

Samjna laughed at Chaaya's verve and continued. "Very well. You are

married to Surya, the son of Kasyapa and Aditi. You have two sons,

Vaivasvatha and Yama, and a daughter, Yami. A few days ago, unable to

endure the intense warmth and light emitted constantly by your husband,

you left on a sojourn to your father's house." She paused. ‘Are you clear on

this?"

‘Absolutely! So, I have left my husband's house. Carry on!"

"Now, you are returning to your husband, after arming yourself with the

fortitude necessary to endure his radiant heat."

"I go in your place as Samjna – Surya's wife. " She smiled reassuringly at

Samjna: "I will love your children as my own."

Samjna gave her a warm hug. "Let me tell you the intimate details of my

private life with Surya. Then you will be ready."

"Samjna!" Surya gasped in surprise at his wife's unexpected appearance at

the door.

"Swami," replied Chaaya, instinctively adhering to Samjna's instructions.

Surya walked eagerly towards her, hands outstretched in warm welcome.

"Samjna, our home has been shrouded in darkness since your departure."

Chaaya smiled aside and thought, 'How naive Surya is! He is the emitter of

all light – and here he is saying that Samjna's absence banished the glow

from his house!'

Aloud, she said: "Swami , I could not bear the separation from you and the

children." Her voice choked with emotion. "I stand before you a new

woman – I have renewed myself for you alone."

"Really?!" Surya was deeply moved. He held out his arms to her and

Chaaya ran into his embrace. As he held her close, Surya was filled with

overwhelming affection for his wife. Samjna was back: as she had

promised, she had composed herself to endure his intense light and heat.

Her body, trembling in his arms, was proof of her resolution.

"Samjna." Surya looked down at her face pressed against his chest.

"Swami ?" she murmured.

"Never leave me again."

"Never again, Swami ."

"I will keep you close to me forever," Surya declared passionately.

She clung to his shoulders in reply.

"Mother!" a delighted child's voice rang out. Surya and Chaaya moved

apart as Yami came hurtling towards them.

"Mother!" two other voices echoed Yami's glad cry. Chaaya embraced the

girl and turned to the door. Vaivasvatha and Yama dashed into the room,

close on the heels of their little sister.

'Just as you accept my husband as your own, you must also wholeheartedly

embrace my Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami as your children' – Samjna's

words resonated in her ears. Chaaya gathered the three children into her

embrace and planted warm kisses on their plump cheeks. Her heart filled

with gratitude to Samjna, her elder sister, for the gift of this life as Surya's

beloved wife.

Time passed. Chaaya immersed herself in Samjna's persona, enjoying her

physical intimacy with Surya as his wife, and also caring for Samjna's

children as her own. Surya, on his part, gave Chaaya his unconditional love,

never doubting for a moment that she was Samjna.

"Narayana!" Sage Narada saluted Sri Mahavishnu and Lakshmi.

"Why, Narada," Vishnu smiled in blessing. "I was just thinking it would be

nice to have you here!"

‘And here I am!" Narada exclaimed. ‘As I am here in answer to your

thoughts, Bhagavan, am I right in guessing that you have a commission for

me?"

"It is time for the incarnation of the seventh of the Navagrahas, Narada."

Vishnu smiled at the sage. "It looks like that cannot happen without your

intercession."

"Narayana! Narayana!" laughed Narada. "If you will it, who can prevent it

from happening?"

"No, Narada," Vishnu said gravely. "Your intercession is needed. The

seventh graha is to be Surya's son."

"Narayana!" Narada said in surprise. "Surya's son, my Lord? Surya already

has two sons."

"Narada, those two sons were begotten by his wife." Vishnu continued

enigmatically. "Now, our seventh graha will be born to the wife who is not

his real wife."

"Narayana!" Narada's voice mirrored his bewilderment. "The wife who is

not his real wife?!"

"Unable to endure Surya's intense heat and radiance any longer, Samjna

breathed life into her own shadow, Chaaya, and deputed her to Surya's

abode in her stead. Chaaya now lives there as Surya's wife and the mother

of Samjna's children, impersonating Samjna flawlessly."

Vishnu pointed out: "Chaaya is absorbed in Samjna's children: so much so

that the thought has never crossed her mind to have children of her own."

He looked gravely at Narada. "It is here that you come into the picture,

Narada – it is up to you to instigate Chaaya into having children of her own.

Suggest that she pray to Surya for this favor: only then can the seventh of

the Navagrahas take birth."

"As you command, my Lord!" Narada automatically bowed to Vishnu's

wish. "But, one small doubt – where is Samjna? Is she with her father?"

"Oh no, Narada! Surely you can see that her presence in Viswakarma's

house would reveal her secret?! … She is engaged in penance in the forest."

He raised his hand in benediction. "Go to Surya's abode, Narada."

"Chaaya!" Narada called out. He smiled when she turned to him. "You are

indeed Samjna's double!"

Chaaya, alone at home in Surya's absence, gasped and stammered, "I … I

… I am Samjna." She recovered her poise. ‘And who might you be?" she

asked haughtily.

"Narayana!" Narada said serenely. "I am Narada – and I am privy to the

secret of your impersonation." He continued reassuringly. "Don't worry,

Chaaya – I have your welfare at heart. Are you aware that you are an

innocent victim in this drama choreographed by Samjna?"

"Maharshi …" said the bewildered Chaaya.

"Yes, consider your position. Regardless of the care you lavish on them,

Samjna's children can never be your own." He paused for effect. He now

had her complete attention. "You are a woman in your own right. Only

when you bear Surya's children can you consolidate your relationship with

him. It is children who make a marriage truly meaningful."

"But … Samjna's children …" Chaaya frowned thoughtfully.

"Of course, they will remain here and continue to enjoy your care." He

cannily pointed out: "Moreover, did Samjna tell you not to have children of

your own?" Chaaya shook her head. "So, you are not betraying Samjna in

any way." He spoke firmly: "Chaaya, put aside your reservations and ask

your husband to bless you with children – at least three. You will then be

Surya's wife in every way."

Narada extended his arm in blessing. "Narayana!" His job done, the

satisfied sage made his departure.

Narada had skillfully sowed the seeds of dissension in Chaaya's receptive

mind.

'Samjna's children can never be your own.'

'It is children who make a marriage truly meaningful.'

'Ask your husband to bless you with children.'

Narada's words beat an incessant tattoo in Chaaya's heart. She pondered

darkly. Her impersonation was no longer a secret. How long would it be

before it became public knowledge? If Surya came to know of her deceit,

he would surely abandon her. She must take pre-emptive measures before it

was too late. Narada was right – the only way to consolidate her position

was to bear Surya's children.

After all, she had sacrificed her own individuality by assuming Samjna's

persona. She had given her unconditional love to her elder sister's husband.

She lived with the constant fear of discovery, playing a dangerous game of

duplicity. Her courage certainly deserved a reward – and that reward would

be her own children.

Chaaya came to a decision: Yes, Narada was right. She squared her

shoulders and walked resolutely to her bed chamber.

Chaaya plaited her long, lustrous hair before the mirror. Surya came to

stand close behind her. She adjusted the string of flowers adorning her braid

and smiled at his reflection in the glass. Surya placed his hands on her

shoulders.

"Samjna … your beauty never ceases to work its magic on me." He rested

his chin gently on her head.

"Ready with compliments – as always!" she smiled seductively into the

mirror. "But not so ready with gifts!"

"I have gifted my entire being to you!" Surya smiled back. "What more can

I give you, dearest?"

"What about a homecoming present on my return from my father's house?

Surely I deserve one!" Chaaya smiled mischievously.

"Yes, my dear – you are right." He caressed her shoulders. "I should have

given you a gift then, or on some other occasion." He paused and smiled at

her reflection in the glass. "Well, it's never too late to remedy a wrong.

Choose your gift now, Samjna."

"Really?" Chaaya asked.

"Yes: tell me what you desire. Whatever it be, it shall be yours."

"I want children," Chaaya said.

Surya's reflection mirrored his surprise. "Children?! Samjna, we have

children: ask for something you lack."

Chaaya insisted: "The only gift I desire from you is children."

Surya gently turned her round so that she faced him. He looked down into

her eyes, drowning in their dark pools of desire.

"Very well!" He laughed softly and teased: "You made your wish to my

reflection, but I am ready to grant it to you in person!"

Chaaya's arms tightened around his broad chest. Her eyes shone in triumph.

"Three children, Swami : two boys and a girl. Agreed?" Her coral lips

parted in delicious invitation.

"Agreed, dearest. How can I refuse such a charming request?!"

In the mirror behind them, their reflections merged to become one.

A fond smile played on Surya's lips as he watched Chaaya walk towards

him. Her pregnancy weighed on her, slowing her gait.

"Samjna, pregnancy suits you: how your body glows!" he said.

Chaaya smiled back at him. "Swami, it is but the reflection of your own

radiance."

Surya shook his head. "The inner light which makes you shine belongs to

neither of us, my dear. It comes from the son in your womb."

"So, tell me, Swami: will my son's complexion match my golden skin, or

will it reflect your flaming hue?"

"Why, dearest, his fresh, ocher radiance will combine all our yellows and

oranges in a unique palette of his own!"

Chaaya glowed with pride. "Yes, he will reflect the best of both his

parents!"

It was the eighth day of Pushya in the year Pramodootha. With the star,

Swaathi, in the ascendant, and the Ashtami moon waning in the sky, Chaaya

gave birth to a baby boy. Contrary to his mother's expectations, the infant's

skin tone was far removed from vibrant gold: in fact, he had the darkest of

complexions!

Chaaya looked askance at the weakly mewling infant with the dark, thin,

ill-proportioned body and strange, tawny eyes. She turned to Surya in

bewilderment.

"What is it, Samjna?" Surya smiled gently. " Is it the boy's complexion?"

"Swami , I expected him to be like you … "

"My son is like me, dear: he is my alter ego. My own golden body has its

indivisible, dark shadow. My son is my shadow: naturally, his complexion

is dark."

Aditi and Kasyapa, along with Viswakarma and his wife, were proud

grandparents at the baby's naming ceremony. To their delight, the Trimurti

and Narada made their unexpected appearance on the occasion.

Sri Mahavishnu addressed Surya: "Your son will always walk with a

measured tread. Restraint will be the hallmark of all his actions. The name I

have chosen for him will reflect these traits -"

Surya intervened devoutly: "Lord, our son is indeed fortunate to receive his

name from you!"

Vishnu smiled. "Your son is Sanaischara," he said.

The Trimurti blessed the infant. Shiva and Brahma advised Surya to devote

the greatest care to his education and upbringing, as the boy was destined to

attain eminence as one of the Navagrahas.

Kasyapa was delighted to hear that his lineage was now elevated to include

two of the Navagrahas.

Sanaischara flourished under Chaaya's special care. In due course, Chaaya

gave birth to a second boy. Surya named him Saavarni, in recognition of his

flaming complexion – a faithful reflection of his father's radiance. Lastly,

Chaaya delivered a baby girl, whom Surya named Tapati.

Chaaya reared her own three children along with Samjna's trio. As she

delighted in Sanaischara, Saavarni and Tapati, Chaaya's former affection for

the others gradually dimmed.

"And now we come to the birth of Rahu, the eighth of the Navagrahas."

Nirvikalpananda paused to look at his disciples. "Listen carefully," he

exhorted.

"Master, Rahu is also known as Simhikaagarbhasambhoota, isn't he?"

Shivananda interrupted. "Does this mean that he is the son of Simhika,

Kasyapa's wife?"

"Excellent, Shivananda!" the master smiled approvingly. "You are right.

Rahu is the son of Simhika – Kasyapa's wife and Daksha prajapati ’s

daughter." He paused. "The story of Rahu, the graha who is powerful

enough to swallow both Surya and Chandra, is simple enough. It begins in

Kasyapa's hermitage … "

Nirvikalpananda continued his narration.

The Birth of Rahu

K asyapa's wives sat companionably together at the hermitage, passing the

time of day in pleasant chatter.

Danu remarked: "We are all mothers – except Simhika."

"Danu, how can she have children? She is too slow!" Diti laughed

mockingly. "She neither prays to god for progeny – as Aditi did – nor does

she appeal to our husband – as the rest of us did!"

Riled by the amusement which greeted Diti's word, Simhika cried: "Oh,

please! I may be slow, but I am certainly not dumb!" She looked steadily at

each woman in turn. "Tell me, whom should I approach: god, or husband?"

Her voice was determined. "I will ask for progeny and prove my worth to

your satisfaction."

"If you pray to god, he will advise you to turn to your husband. So, you

might as well save time and approach our husband, the visible and merciful

god!" Kaala joked. The other women laughed knowingly.

Aditi, always gentle, turned to Simhika with a smile. "Our husband

possesses great power, Simhika. Go to him: he will advise you as to the

proper course of action. Pray to him – you will certainly be blessed with

motherhood."

Kasyapa sat in deep meditation under a tree on the bank of the river.

Simhika seated herself before him and waited. Kasyapa remained oblivious

to her presence, his eyes closed.

Unable to contain her impatience any longer, Simhika said: "Swami!"

Kasyapa slowly opened his eyes. He looked interrogatively at his wife.

"Simhika, why are you here?"

Now alarmed at her own temerity, Simhika stammered: "I … I … I am here

to ask a boon from you … "

‘A boon?" Kasyapa smiled indulgently. "Very well, Simhika. What do you

want?"

"I want a son."

"That's certainly a meritorious desire," Kasyapa said encouragingly.

"My son should possess great power and prodigious strength." She paused

and then rushed on excitedly. "Everyone should look on him with fear."

Kasyapa grew serious. "A son who is feared by all?!" He cautioned her.

"Think carefully before you define your boon, my dear."

Simhika remained intransigent. "I do not need to reconsider. I know what I

want: and that is a son who fills every heart with dread. He should be held

in the deepest awe by all."

Kasyapa sighed. "Very well, Simhika – come here." He beckoned her close

and laid his palm on her head. "I grant you the boon you seek: soon, a son

who possesses the traits you specified will frolic in your lap."

"Swami," Aditi conveyed the glad tidings to Kasyapa: "Simhika is going to

become a mother." She continued. "She is so eager to bear a son – I do hope

you blessed her with the beautiful son she desires."

‘Aditi, your younger sister did not ask for a handsome boy." Kasyapa

laughed wryly. "In fact, she was insistent that her son inspire fear in all

onlookers." He sighed. "It was a case of asking for the wrong boon at the

wrong time! She will give birth to a hideous son with the complexion of

raging fire."

"Swami!" Aditi was aghast at his words.

"Don't worry, Aditi." Kasyapa reassured his wife. "Remember that all things

come to pass as ordained by God's will. I am confident that Simhika's wish

was also instigated by God."

At the end of nine months, Simhika gave birth to a baby boy whose skin

glowed a deep red. Daksha and his wife, accompanied by Brahma, Narada

and Indra, graced the naming ceremony of Simhika's son.

Brahma informed Kasyapa that his youngest child was ordained to take his

place in the pantheon of the Navagrahas. He advised the sage to devote

great care to the boy's education, saying: "The child will grow to be

universally worshipped and influence the lives of all living creatures. He

will come to receive and renounce. In line with his traits, he is to be named

Rahu."

Rahu grew up in the care of Simhika and Kasyapa's other twelve wives. In

due course, Kasyapa commenced the boy's education.

"We have heard the antecedents of eight grahas," Nirvikalpananda told his

disciples. "Now, we come to the birth of the ninth graha – Ketu."

"Master, Ketu is almost always mentioned in conjunction with Rahu: there

seems to a close relationship between them." Vimalananda asked: "Like

Rahu, was Ketu also Kasyapa's son?"

"That's a very pertinent question, Vimalananda," the master said. "But it

cannot be answered with a categorical 'yes' or 'no.' The epics give us several

versions of Ketu's birth."

He paused to collect his thoughts. "In one version, Kasyapa and his wife,

Danu, had a son called Ketumantha. It is believed that this Ketumantha is

the Kethu graha – here, the fact that they are siblings explains the intimate

bond shared by Raahu and Ketu. Ketumantha is also reported to have taken

the later incarnation of Amithouja during the age of the Mahabharatha.”

Nirvikalpananda continued: "However, the Vishnudharmotthara Purana,

one of the eighteen Puranas, gives a different account of Ketu's origin.

According to this epic, Brahma was deeply concerned as the earth groaned

under the weight of the insupportable burden of life. In order to give the

earth relief, he created Mrthyu – the goddess of death – and ordered her to

destroy all living beings. The tender-hearted Mrthyu shed tears at his

ruthless command and refused to comply. When Brahma demanded her

obedience, the goddess heaved a fierce sigh; this sigh metamorphosed into a

pennant of fire, from whose flames emerged the infant Ketu. Brahma

declared that the boy would achieve fame as Ketu and Dhooma Ketu."

Nirvikalpanand paused to give his disciples time to digest this lengthy

explanation. "A third narrative revolves round the familiar Churning of the

Ocean of Milk. One account holds that an asura , Rahu, in the guise of a

deva, managed to partake of the amrita distributed by Mohini to the gods.

However, the Skandha Mahapurana gives an alternative version: ‘Tadaa

Raahuscha Kethuscha Dwaavethaa Dhaithya Pungvou, Devaanaam

roopamaasthaaya Amrthaartham twaraanvitou upavishtou tadaa

pankthyaam Devaanaam amruthaarthinou’ – meaning that two rakshasas,

named Rahu and Ketu, adopted the disguise of gods in order to share the

amrita ."

He paused questioningly as Chidaananda raised his hand. "Yes?"

"Master, which version do we accept?"

‘Any version we choose," suggested Shivananada.

Nirvikalpananda smiled and shook his head. "No, Shivananda. If each of us

chooses the version we personally prefer, there will never be a convergence

of opposing claims." He urged them: "We must subject the different

versions to strict analysis, find the common denominator which runs

through them all and then reach a conclusion." He paused for effect. ‘And

that conclusion should adhere faithfully to age-old beliefs." He smiled at

their puzzled countenances. "Come, let us subject the different versions to

an equity of treatment."

"But, master … how do we arrive at such an objective stance?" It was the

puzzled Vimalananda.

"Let us first hear the version of Ketu's birth which connects Kasyapa and

Mrthyu. That may answer your question."

Nirvikalpananda voice assumed its narrative tone. "In ages past, the earth

groaned under the unbearable weight of rapidly multiplying living beings,

who were yet to come under the ambit of death. Bhudevi, the earth goddess,

saw a calamity in the making … "

The Birth of Ketu

N arada, flying across the sky in the course of his routine peregrinations,

came down to earth to rest momentarily near the Himalayas.

Instantaneously, Bhudevi appeared before him.

"Narayana!" gasped the startled sage. "Mother! It's you!"

"Narada, I have watched you crisscrossing the sky and waited anxiously for

you to descend to earth."

"Narayana!" exclaimed the sage in concern. "Mother, I have never before

seen such abject woe on your countenance!"

Bhudevi said dejectedly: "Narada, I am weighed down by despair. Brahma

continues to go about his task of creation, ensuring that the children of

Manu proliferate exponentially. The entire burden of his creation falls on

me. It is becoming insupportable! I fear that I may collapse under the

intolerable weight at any moment!"

She turned her pleading eyes to him and continued urgently, "Narada,

convey my agony to your father, Brahma. Intercede with him on my behalf

and ask him to find a way to reduce my burden."

"Narayana!" Narada rose to the emergency. "I recall my father, and his

father, agreeing that it would be dangerous to increase the earth's burden

beyond a certain point. I will go to Satyaloka immediately!"

He flashed into the sky.

Narada stood before Brahma and Saraswati, giving his account of his

meeting with Bhudevi. He emphasized that the massive explosion in

population had brought the earth to the brink of imminent catastrophe.

"Son, this is indeed a grave matter," Brahma pondered.

"Father, suppose you take a break from creation …" Narada suggested.

Saraswati smiled gently. "That would be futile, Narada. The earth is unable

to bear the weight of its present burden of living things."

Brahma nodded in agreement. "Yes, son. Maintaining the population at its

present level is not the solution – a definite decrease in numbers is the need

of the hour." He frowned in thought. "I must give this deep consideration."

He turned to his son. "Narada, give Bhudevi my assurance that her burden

will soon be reduced."

"Yes, father," said the sage with alacrity and hurried on his mission.

Brahma pondered on the menace looming over the earth. Time passed but a

solution continued to evade him. His increasing impatience and irritability

fanned the smoldering embers of rage within him – tongues of flame roared

from his four heads and spread through the cosmos, posing a grave threat to

the animate and inanimate world. Oblivious to the inferno he had

unwittingly ignited, Brahma remained immersed in deep cogitation.

Parameswara, keenly aware that the universe was in jeopardy, appeared

before Brahma and caught his attention: "My dear Brahma, the intensity of

your thought process has pushed the cosmos to the brink of disaster. Come,

come: calm yourself – after all, your task is creation, not destruction!"

He continued, "I suggest that you create a power tasked explicitly with

death – this is the sole means of relieving the earth of its insupportable

burden." He paused. ‘As for me, I am the god of destruction: my duty is not

to take lives, but to grant peace to the dead."

Brahma nodded in agreement. Shiva was right: The very purpose of his

genesis by Lord Vishnu was creation. Creating life was his only duty – not

death. As Brahma ceased his relentless quest for a solution, a woman

emerged from his body, sporting a mottled red, black and yellow

complexion. She stood facing the south and raised bewildered eyes to

Brahma.

"Who am I?" she asked.

"You are Mrthyu, the goddess of death. I have created you to perform a

crucial task: bringing death to all the creatures of the cosmos. Commence

your duty at once!" commanded Brahma. Mrthyu immediately dissolved

into abject grief. The surprised Creator reached out his cupped palm to

catch the tears coursing down her cheeks.

The goddess sobbed: "Forgive me, Lord. Bringing death to innocent

creatures is blatant injustice: it is beyond me to perform this task. I abdicate

my responsibility and leave at once to undertake rigorous penance."

Shiva looked thoughtfully after the departing goddess and advised Brahma:

"Mrthyu's tenderness is an integral part of her femininity. Be patient and

gentle with her: you can persuade her to execute her duty in due course."

Mrthyu took her leave of Brahma and commenced her penance at

Dhenukaasrama. Suddenly, a grave voice cut through her meditation.

"Mrthyu!" It was Brahma.

"Swami!" exclaimed the startled Mrthyu.

"Mrthyu, I will persist in reminding you of your ordained duty. You are

destined to fulfill the purpose of your creation – and that is the destruction

of living beings. You cannot evade your fate. Accept the inevitable,"

Brahma smiled gently at the worried goddess and continued in softer tones:

"Mrthyu, listen to me: I will explain your brief. I do not require you to be a

hands-on, cold-blooded killer. When I explained the purpose of your

creation, I gathered the tears of sorrow which you shed. Each teardrop will

metamorphose into a fatal disease and death will come as a natural

consequence to living beings. All you have to do is oversee the process."

He urged her: "Accept your fate with grace, Mrthyu. Commence your

ordained task."

Mrthyu reluctantly acknowledged her helplessness in the face of fate.

Realizing that her hands were effectively tied, she heaved a searing breath

of surrender which became a streaming banner of heat. It shimmered in the

air … then, in its place, there appeared an infant boy!

Brahma smiled at the astonished goddess and said: "It was in expectation of

this birth that I let you walk away on the day of your creation. This is your

son, Mrthyu."

The goddess instinctively gathered the boy into her warm embrace.

Brahma continued: "As he emerged from a pennant of heat, he is Ketu – the

flag. He is yours to nurture and rear."

Mrthyu shook her head in reluctant denial. "Lord, you have assigned me a

mammoth task which will consume all my time and energy. I will be unable

to give the baby the care he requires. Please accept the boy as your own."

"No, Mrthyu: however, there is a perfect solution to your problem. Your son

has the innate traits of a rakshasa . As such, Kasyapa, who is the progenitor

of the rakshasa lineage, is the most suitable person to entrust with your

child's upbringing." He continued: "I will ensure that Kasyapa accepts Ketu

as a part of his family."

Mrthyu tenderly kissed the infant. "I am indeed blessed, Lord," she said.

"Swami! Swami!" Kasyapa's wife called urgently as she rushed into the

hermitage.

Kasyapa looked up from his meditation. "What is it, Danu?"

She held out the infant in her arms. "Look – a baby boy! I found him

playing happily among the bushes at the rear of our ashram ."

Kasyapa looked thoughtfully at the bundle in her arms. "He must belong to

someone … "

Dhanu interrupted excitedly: "He is my son – I found him!" She thrust the

child under her husband's nose. "Look: his face … his eyes … they are

exact replicas of my own children's!"

As Kasyapa remained silent, her impassioned voice rose. "Isn't that proof

enough that he is mine? He is my son – I will adopt him!" She fiercely

hugged the baby to her breast.

Kasyapa smiled indulgently. "Very well, Danu. You may keep him: I don't

see anyone objecting to that. After all, God's will reigns supreme!"

Danu gave a contented smile. Then, "Swami , what shall we call our son?"

Kasyapa pondered. "What name do you suggest, Danu?"

Before his wife could respond, a voice was heard: "Brahma has already

given the boy the name Ketu." It was Narada.

Kasyapa exclaimed in surprise: "Maharshi! It is you!"

"Nayayana!" Narada smiled. "I came explicitly to explain that my father

named the boy and sent him to you. He requests you to accept him as your

son and devote yourself to his upbringing."

Kasyapa folded his hands in respectful acceptance. "It will be our pleasure,"

he said.

Danu's eyes melted with affection as she looked down at the boy. "Perhaps

this explains why my breasts swelled with milk the moment my eyes fell on

the baby."

She murmured tenderly, "My son."

Ketu, Danu's adopted son, and Rahu, Simhika's child, developed the

strongest of bonds which was further strengthened by the inexorable march

of time. Even as infants, they were inseparable – they crawled at the same

time, moving side by side on chubby hands and knees. They went on to

toddle together on unsteady legs, holding each other for support. As they

grew old enough to commence their education, Kasyapa found, to his

amazement, that one could absorb the knowledge imparted by him to the

other.

Danu was rather suspicious of this extraordinary bond.

She said: "Swami , I suckled Ketu just as I did my other children – but,

instead of cleaving to his own siblings, he prefers Rahu's company." She

frowned anxiously. "What does this unusual behavior portend?"

Kasyapa smiled indulgently at her. "Who knows what runs in Ketu's little

head?! And that applies to Rahu also – he follows Ketu like a shadow!" He

paused thoughtfully. "Maybe they share a relationship of which we are not

aware."

Danu nodded slowly in agreement.

Kasyapa reassured his wife: "Perhaps it is Lord Brahma's will that Rahu and

Ketu grow up together, sharing the strongest bonds of affection." He

pointed out: "Danu, Brahma could easily have entrusted Ketu to the care of

some other maanasaputra and his family: however, he particularly chose us

to be Ketu's parents." He paused. "I think the Supreme God has ordained

that Rahu and Ketu are to grow up together, as inseparable as twins."

Danu shrugged aside her misgivings and said: "Whatever be the reason, I

am indeed fortunate to be Ketu's mother."

Rahu and Ketu entered manhood. Kasyapa arranged the former's wedding

with Simhidevi, while Ketu was married to Chitralekha. In due course,

Rahu and Simhidevi had a son called Meghahasa.

The passage of time did but reinforce Rahu and Ketu's strong bond of

affection.

Nirvikalpananda came to the end of his narration delineating the genesis of

the Navagrahas. He pointed out: "We have heard the genealogies of the

Navagrahas as per the timeline of their incarnations – not in the order in

which we recite their names in our daily prayers, or follow in astrology:

'Surya, Chandra, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu.'"

He considered his disciples, engrossed in the fascinating discourse. "Like

their births, the lives and times of the Navagrahas are of extraordinary

interest. Here, we will follow the familiar order of their names:

commencing with Surya and ending with Ketu."

He paused and smiled at his four students. "So, now we go back to Surya's

background." He turned to Shivananada. "Can you tell me who Surya's

parents are?"

‘Aditi and Kasyapa, master!" Shivananda answered eagerly.

‘And you, Chidananda: who is Surya's wife?"

"Samjna, Viswakarma's daughter, master," said Chidananda.

"Later, Samjna deputed her shadow, Chaaya, to impersonate her."

Nirvikalpananda said, "Excellent!"

He turned to the other two disciples. ‘And now you will tell us the names of

Samjna's and Chaaya's children."

"Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami are Samjna's children, master," Sadanand

said promptly.

"Master, Chaaya is the mother of Sanaischara, Saavarni and Tapati,"

Vimalananda said in his turn.

"I am pleased that you can recall these details." Nirvikalpananda smiled in

approval. ‘As I recounted, Surya's six children were growing up in Chaaya's

care. As time passed, Chaaya's love for her own three children stifled her

former affection for Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami. One day …"

The master picked up the threads of his discourse.

Part 2

The Life of

the Navagrahas

The Life of Surya

C haaya's dislike of Samjna's children festered like a hidden sore until it

burst into active hatred. She soon found herself unable to bear the very sight

of Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami. One day, Chaaya gathered her three

children together in a secluded room and addressed them gravely:

"My dearest children, listen carefully to what I have to say. Vaivasvata,

Yama and Yami are wicked – they are a very bad influence on you.

Henceforth, I want you to avoid their company. Understand? You are not to

play with them or associate with them in any way."

Sanaischara, Saavarni and Tapati exchanged surprised glances.

Saavarni protested: "But, mother, our brothers, Vaivasvata and Yama, and

sister, Yami, are good … "

Sanaischara admitted grudgingly: "Yes, mother, they are always kind to us."

Tapati added her voice to the childish chorus: "Mother, they never quarrel

with us. We play together happily and they love us very much."

Chaaya admonished them: "You are too young to understand their

underhanded ways and great cunning. They …"

Tapati's eyes widened in surprise at this. She said, "But, mother: Sister

Yami likes me very much. She always lets me win the games we play and

never refuses me anything I want from her!"

Chaaya looked at her protesting children in exasperation. Keeping a tight

lid on her rising temper, she said softly: "My darlings, there is one

immutable truth which you must know – good people's eyes will project

their own decency on everyone they look at. As you are good children,

Vaivasvata, Yama, Yami mistakenly appear to be virtuous in your eyes."

Sanaischara asked eagerly: "Mother, we are good and decent – unlike the

others!" His voice throbbed with pride. "We are superior to them, right?"

Chaaya patted him approvingly on his back and smiled complacently. "Yes,

my son. It is only because you are good that you are misled into thinking

that those three are also good." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial

whisper. "Do you know what those wicked children told me?" She paused

for effect. "They said that you are bad children who get into all kinds of

mischief behind my back."

To her satisfaction, Sanaischara, Saavarni and Tapati gasped and looked at

each other in righteous indignation.

She reassured them: "Of course, I don't believe a single word said by those

liars! I know what good, obedient children you are." She added: "You

always follow my advice."

Sanaischara broke the uneasy silence which followed: "Mother, you are

right. I don't know why – but, whenever I see them, a flood of rage rises in

me! I have to hide the instinctive glare of hatred sparking from my eyes."

Chaaya smiled triumphantly and encouraged her eldest son: "That is the

normal reaction of all good children who are confronted by the wicked."

She warned him: "Henceforth, beware of them. Be careful not to let them

make you as wicked as they are."

Tapati's anxious eyes searched her mother's face. "But, mother, how can we

be careful?"

Chaaya reassured her daughter. "Don't worry, darling. All you have to do is

close ranks with your brothers." She addressed them as a group. "Stay away

from them. Be a tight-knit threesome and don't let them interact with you."

Sanaischara was elated at the turn of events. "Mother, I am the leader of this

group, right?"

"Of course, Sanaischara: as the eldest you are naturally the leader."

Chaaya looked at them gravely. "Now, children, you must remember one

thing: this is a secret among us. You must not tell Vaivasvata, Yama, or

Yami what I have said. Above all, you must not let your father know what

we have discussed today."

"Why should we keep this a secret from father?" Sanaischara asked

curiously.

"Because I am telling you to!" Chaaya shot back heatedly.

"But why?" Sanaischara insisted.

Chaaya heaved an impatient sigh. "Sanaischara, your father will not

recognize the truth in this. His fondness for those children makes him blind

to their wickedness." She paused to get their undivided attention. "You

know, he loves them more than he loves you."

The children were aghast at her words. Tapati's eyes filled with hot tears.

Saavarni asked: "Really, mother?" He murmured sadly, "We did not know

that father loves them more … "

"Now you know that it is your mother who loves you most and always puts

your welfare above all else," she smiled down at them. "So, it is your

mother whom you must always obey!"

Chaaya's brainwashing had its required effect on her three children. They

deliberately ignored Samjna's children and spurned their friendly advances.

The first overt rift occurred between Yami and Tapati, who was most

inclined to blindly accept her mother's advice. Tapati's love for Yami now

metamorphosed into an intense hatred of her older sister.

In her turn, Chaaya let the mask slip from her face and openly exhibited her

dislike for Samjna's children. Vaivasvata and Yama were bewildered by her

sudden change in attitude, while the soft- hearted Yami was broken-hearted.

Yama brought the issue into the open with his elder brother. "Mother no

longer treats us with affection, Vaivasvata. She openly shows her preference

for Sani, Saavarni and Tapati..…"

Vaivasvata agreed sadly, "Yes, Yama, I am also aware of this."

"Mother's change in attitude is deeply wounding. Let's take it up with

father," Yama suggested.

Vaivasvata placed a restraining arm on his brother's shoulder. "Yama, it

would not be right on our part to complain about mother to father. It is

wrong."

Yama shook his head in vehement protest and exclaimed passionately: "No,

it is not wrong! It is never wrong to point out another's offence. Be it one's

father or mother, justice is justice! Our mother cannot be exonerated of

wrongdoing just because of her position and age. The path of righteous

dharma is uncompromisingly straight and true!"

Vaivasvata smiled indulgently at his younger brother. "You are very

preoccupied with dharma these days, Yama!"

"Yes," Yama said gravely. "I believe that dharma is the very foundation of

all creation. This precept has slowly taken strong root in my mind." He

paused in deliberation. "Brother, it may have escaped your notice, but

mother's attitude towards us began to change subtly right from the time of

Sani's birth. It became progressively negative with the arrival of Saavarni

and then Tapati."

Yami raised her puzzled gaze to Yama's face. "I don't think I ever noticed

this change, brother."

"Nor did I, Yama," added Vaivasvata. "I cannot comprehend how it was

discernible to you alone!"

"The change was increasingly obvious in mother's eyes," Yama observed

sadly. "When she looks at them, her eyes fill with a tender glow. But, the

same eyes burn with a red-hot flame when they fall on us." He sighed.

"Now, even her voice openly reflects her hatred for us."

"Why does mother hate us?" Yami asked innocently. "Now that you have

pointed it out, I too recall mother's partiality towards the others. She always

breaks into smiles when she sees Tapati and is ever ready to praise her." Her

eyes filled with tears again. "But … when I go to her, she scowls and

chastises me for no fault of mine!"

"It is the parent's righteous duty to treat all their children with impartial

affection. It is against the code of dharma for a mother to discriminate

against any of her off-spring. I will no longer tolerate this injustice from

mother!" With this impassioned declaration, Yama walked out resolutely.

The others looked after him thoughtfully.

"Dharma, dharma, dharma …" Vaivasvata chanted softly. "This has

become Yama's constant refrain! I wonder what it portends."

Yami smiled in understanding. "He who recites the word, dharma , will act

in accordance with its dictates."

Chaaya smiled fondly at Sani, Saavarni and Tapati, as they relished the

ksheeraanna she had prepared specially for them. "Eat, my children. Let me

refill your bowls."

Sani paused with a spoonful of the rice and milk pudding raised halfway to

his lips. He stared unblinkingly at his mother and then looked meaningfully

towards the door. In silent comprehension, Chaaya followed his gaze:

Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami stood at the entrance.

Chaaya glared at the trio and scolded angrily: "Why are you here? Go to the

garden and wait until you are called."

Yama moved forward resolutely, accompanied by the others. "Mother, we

are hungry," he declared.

"Stop right there!" Chaaya's voice cracked through the air like a whiplash.

"Didn't you hear me? Go to the garden at once!"

Yami froze in mid-stride, her startled eyes wide with fear. Yama stepped

forward fearlessly to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with his little sister. He

locked eyes with Chaaya. "We are hungry, mother. Give us some of the

pudding. Now, if you please!"

Chaaya's eyes reddened in anger. "Yama!" she thundered. "Be careful: your

behavior borders on disrespect!"

"My lack of respect is not towards you, mother." Yama stood his ground. "It

is the injustice meted out to us which I hold in contempt." He continued

determinedly. "I will oppose injustice whenever and wherever I encounter

it. I will not tolerate your unfair discrimination against us. We deserve our

fair share of your love and of the ksheeraanna ."

He turned towards his siblings and held out his hands to them. "Come,

brother. Come, Yami. Let's eat our share of the pudding."

Chaaya glared at Yama in fierce loathing.

Sani's face mirrored her emotions, as he complained: "Yama always

behaves like this, mother. Even when we play our games, he constantly

chants, ‘Dharma, dharma,' and uses it as a pretext to defeat us."

Chaaya looked angrily at the standing trio and declared: "I refuse to serve

you now. Let Sani, Saavarni and Tapati have their fill." Her voice dripped

with contempt. "Whatever remains will be yours."

Sani exhorted the others: "Saavarni! Tapati! Eat quickly: we must finish it

all! Don't let a drop remain in the bowl!" He started to gorge himself on the

pudding, hurriedly gulping down large mouthfuls.

Chaaya calmed him with a gesture and said, "No hurry, my son. Take your

time and savour the pudding: it's all yours!"

Yama addressed Chaaya gravely: "Mother, this is base injustice. We are all

your children and are equally deserving of your care. It is your ordained

duty as a mother to treat us with impartial affection." He straightened his

shoulders and declared: "We will not accept leftovers! If you refuse to serve

us, we will help ourselves to our fair share of the pudding!"

"Stay where you are, Yama!" Chaaya thundered. "You demand equal care

from me?" She paused and spat out at him: "Well, let me make it clear to

you: I refuse to treat you on par with Sani, Saavarni and Tapati.

Understand?" She sniffed in disdain. "Like it or lump it – there is nothing

you can do about it! Now, go!" She challenged him with an icy glance.

Yama's glared defiantly back at her with angry, red-rimmed eyes. He raised

his foot to step forward.

Chaaya exploded in a frenzy of rage: "You insolent, spoilt child! How dare

you raise your foot against me! Is it to kick me?" She pointed to the

offending foot. "Well, you can reap the consequence of your stubborn

defiance!" Her voice resounded harshly in the silence. "May your foot fall

from your body and provide fodder for worms!"

Yama froze in disbelief. The other children gaped with open mouths at

Chaaya's face which was a white-hot orb of fire.

The shocked Yama stammered: "Mother … you have cursed me! … how

could you?! … mother!"

The unrelenting Chaaya shouted: "Yes, I have cursed you! I will see you

dead! Now, get out of my sight: you are not my son!"

Yama's stared fearlessly into Chaaya's hate-filled eyes. Slowly, he bent to

look at his foot: hot tears welled up in his own eyes. Wordlessly, he turned

and made for the door.

Vaivasvata and Yami followed him as if in a trance…

"What?!" the astonished Surya gaped at his three eldest children. "Did you

hear her correctly? You may have misinterpreted her words!" He frowned in

disbelief. "No, this is impossible! No mother would curse her own child!"

Vaivasvata stepped forward and locked eyes with his father. "What Yama

says is absolutely true, father. Mother cursed him, saying that his foot will

fall off and become fodder for worms."

"Father," Yami brushed the hot tears from her cheeks. "Mother has been ill-

treating us right from the time of brother Sani's birth."

Surya looked silently at the grief-stricken trio.

"Father," Yama's voice was a tremulous whisper. "What will happen to my

foot? How can I walk if it –"

Surya moved swiftly to interrupt his son. "Do not fear, my boy. I cannot

revoke your mother's curse, but I can amend it."

He placed his right hand gently on his son's head. "Some flakes of flesh

from your foot will fall painlessly to the ground and the worms will feed on

them. In this way, your mother's curse will take effect and, at the same time,

you will not lose your foot." He paused to stroke his son's hair. "Cheer up,

Yama. Forget the curse!"

Yama's eyes filled with tears of relief as he looked up at his father's loving

face. Surya bent to wipe the tears from his son's cheeks and turned to his

eldest son. "Vaivasvata, I want you to tell me the truth: is your mother ill-

treating the three of you?"

"Yes, father," Vaivasvata said firmly. "We concealed this from you as it did

not seem right to complain about mother." He ordered his chaotic thoughts

and continued. "After the birth of Sani, Saavarni and Tapati, a marked

change crept into her attitude towards us. She looks fondly on them, but her

eyes are filled with hatred towards us. Today, she refused to serve us

ksheeraanna , telling us that we could make do with the leftovers."

"Mother always praises Tapati but constantly criticizes me using harsh

words." Yami piped up timidly.

"Father," Yama asked, "Can I tell you something?"

Surya bent his head towards his son. "What is it, Yama? Speak out, my

boy."

"The other day, I overheard mother advising Sani, Saavarni and little sister,

Tapati, to keep away from us. She told them that we are wicked children.

And … and …" his voice choked with emotion. He swallowed and

continued: ‘And today … after cursing me … she shouted: ‘You are not my

son – get out of my sight!'"

"Mother also threatened to see Yama dead, father," Vaivasvata added

gravely.

"Father, will mother really do that?" a tremor of fear underlined Yama's

words.

Surya looked speechlessly at the three forlorn children standing before him.

A frisson of rage coursed through his body. Then, he turned abruptly and

walked swiftly towards Chaaya's chamber. Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami

followed close on his heels, running to keep up with his long, angry strides.

"Samjna!" Surya's voice thundered across the vast palace.

Chaaya jumped up in surprised alarm. Her husband had never raised his

voice at her in all these years! One look at their father's crimson face and

Sani, Saavarni and Tapati took refuge behind their mother. Surya strode up

furiously to confront his wife. His burning eyes bored into her own. In

contrast to his flaming glare, his voice was as cold as naked steel.

"Did you curse Yama?"

A shiver of fear pulsated through Chaaya. For the first time in her life, she

was unable to bear the intense heat emanating from Surya's body. She

moved back, hugging herself protectively. She feared that she would be

burnt to ashes by his white-hot anger.

"How could you possibly have the heart to pronounce such a terrible curse

on your own son?" Surya hissed at her through clenched teeth. "You call

yourself a mother? You are a disgrace to motherhood!" His eyes blazed in

contempt. He brought his face close to hers. "And what do you mean by

telling Yama that he is not your son? Are you not his mother?"

For the life of her, Chaaya could not stop trembling like a storm– tossed

leaf. She was transfixed by the frenzied fire which swirled in the golden

hollows of Surya's eyes. His violent rage battered her like a thousand brutal

rays of unendurable heat. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Her eyes

brimmed with hot tears.

Are you not his mother?' Surya's accusation reverberated in her ears.

Unable to meet his eyes, Chaaya bowed her head in surrender. She realized

that she could no longer maintain her impersonation and conceal her pact

with Samjna. Her lips trembled as she struggled to speak.

"I … I am … I am not the mother of Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami," she

managed to blurt the truth.

"Samjna!" Surya shouted. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Swami, I am not Samjna!" There – it was said! Chaaya pleaded: "Please

forgive me, Swami – I am not your Samjna."

Surya eyed her in suspicious disbelief. "What?! What do you mean?" His

voice was troubled.

Chaaya lifted her head and locked eyes with him. "I swear I am not

Samjna." Her voice strengthened. "I am Chaaya – Samjna's shadow. Samjna

used her divine power to make me come alive in the flesh and imbued me

with her personality … she commanded me to impersonate her as your wife

and as the mother of her children … "

Surya stood speechless, spell-bound by Chaaya's incredible narrative.

Beside him, his six children listened with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

"Father," Yami gave an agonized cry and clasped Surya's legs. "Will mother

never come back to us?"

In reply, Surya hugged his daughter tight. His heart ached at his children's

grief-stricken faces. He had not entertained the least suspicion about

Samjna's innocuous request to visit her father's house. His mind was

flooded with regret: he had left his precious children under the care of a

woman who was not their mother; he had foolishly fallen for the drama

enacted by Chaaya; the physical intimacy and happiness he had experienced

with her was but a shadow of the real thing; his very life over the past years

had been one long falsehood!

"Father, we want our mother!" Vaivasvata and Yama pleaded in one voice.

Surya looked at their woebegone faces and bent to plant a kiss on his

daughter's head. Gently pushing her close to her brothers, Surya said,

"Vaivasvata and Yama, take care of your sister." He warned: "Stay away

from Chaaya."

"Father … what about mother?" Yami's eyes brimmed with tears.

"Don't worry, darling." His voice rang with the decisive clarity of a bell. "I

will come back with your mother."

Based on Chaaya's testimony, Surya made his way straight to the forest. His

heart ached with the sorrow of his long separation from his adored Samjna.

His soul was a conflagration of agonized pain: its fire even exceeded his

inherent physical heat! Although he sought Samjna with single-minded

determination, the forest was strangely quiet and bereft of life: not a single

wild animal or bird crossed his path; no secluded ashram or meditating

ascetic appeared among the dense foliage.

Suddenly, the loud neighing of a horse shattered the eerie silence of the

woods. Surya quickly set out in the direction of the sound, hoping to gather

some useful information from the horse's rider. A whinny reached his ears –

he thrust aside the brambles and thick bushes and hurried forward. He burst

into a clearing and stopped short. There before him was a large pond whose

pellucid water reflected the emerald green and cerulean blue of forest and

sky. But it was not the water which caught his attention: it was a pristine

white horse, standing still on the further bank of the pond. Surya

approached slowly – it was a mare.

The mare stood motionless, her large, limpid eyes gazing unblinkingly at

him. Her long tail swayed gently in the wind like a damsel's braid. Her

radiant body was dappled silver in the rays of the sun.

Surya was drawn towards the mare by some irresistible force. The lovely

animal kept her fearless gaze on him as he moved closer. When he locked

eyes with the mare, a pronounced tremor ran through her body. Slowly, her

fore legs began a rhythmic tapping on the ground. She continued to hold his

gaze. The mesmerized Surya gave a gasp of surprise – those eyes … where

had he seen them before? Surely, the message lurking in them was familiar

to him!?

Suddenly, the realization hit him; his entire body was covered with

goosebumps – these were Samjna's eyes! Yes, the beautiful mare was none

other than his Samjna! And her beloved eyes invited him to become one

with her.

In a trice, Surya assumed the form of a tall, majestic stallion.

The mare rubbed her cheek against the stallion's muscular flank. In his turn,

the stallion gave a soft nicker and bent his head to gently nuzzle her lovely

neck…

The secluded forest was the lone witness to Surya and Samjna's poignant

reunion with each other as stallion and mare. Free from all inhibitions and

restraints, they resumed their conjugal life in those sylvan surroundings,

making up for their long period of separation. Subsequent to their

passionate mating, the mare miraculously delivered three sons through her

flaring nostrils. Immediately, both Surya and Samjna resumed their original

forms and gazed fondly at their offspring: a boy with normal features, and a

pair of twins, sporting equine faces on human torsos.

Bowing to Samjna's wishes, Surya named the horse-faced twins Naasatya

and Dasra, while the third boy was given the name Revanth.

To Samjna's anxious query as to the fate of her sons, Surya said

reassuringly: "Our three miraculously born sons are not ordinary beings.

They are devas. Naasatya and Dasra will become divine physicians and

earn universal renown as the Aswinikumaras. Revanth will achieve fame as

the doyen of equestrian science." Samjna smiled in satisfaction.

Surya gazed lovingly into her eyes and said: "Samjna, I know all the details

of your pact with Chaaya. Your beloved children, Vaivasvata, Yama and

Yami, yearn for their mother. Come, let us go home."

Wordlessly, Samjna lowered her eyes. Beads of sweat shimmered on her

face and body.

Surya tilted her chin up with gentle fingers and said softly: "Yes, dearest, I

understand your predicament. I am now aware that my unyielding attitude

was largely to blame for our separation." He smiled tenderly. "For your

sake, I shall reduce the intensity of my heat and light. But, first, let us go

home."

Samjna broke into a delighted smile. "Swami, I am fortunate indeed!" She

paused. "But what about the Aswins and Revanth? – are we taking them

with us?"

"No, my dear. Their rightful place is Amaravati. The Aswins will be divine

physicians, while Revanth will serve as the equestrian expert of Indra's

court."

"But, father," Revanth asked, "How will we go to Amaravati?"

Surya smiled and pointed skywards. "Look, son. Sage Narada is here."

"Narayana!" Narada said with a happy smile, as he came to stand beside

them. "My father, Brahma, has entrusted me with the mission of escorting

the Aswins and Revanth to Indra's court." He turned to Surya. "Your sons

will achieve great eminence there."

"They are indeed blessed, Sage Narada," Surya said.

"Yes, they have received the blessings of the Creator." Narada beckoned to

the boys. "Come, young men. Let's be on our way!"

The Aswins and Revanth prostrated themselves at their parent's feet.

Samjna raised them up one by one and planted a tender kiss on their

foreheads. Surya gathered them into his fond embrace and bid them

farewell.

He had a parting word of advice for the Aswins. "My boys, do not confine

your skills as divine physicians to the devas alone. Let the human race also

experience the balm of your healing hands."

"Your wish is our command, father," the twins said in unison.

Sage Narada turned to Samjna: "Samjna, be aware that your adventures

were ordained by the Supreme God, Lord Vishnu. Chaaya's impersonation

of you, and your assumption of a mare's form, have both borne precious

fruit: Chaaya has given birth to Sani, Saavarni and Tapati, while you have

brought forth the Aswinkumaras and Revanth." He paused and said: "Sani's

incarnation was the main objective of Chaaya's creation." He smiled at her.

"Now, you can contentedly resume your life with Surya."

"Narada!" exclaimed the surprised Surya. "You have been aware of

Chaaya's charade all this while?!"

"Narayana!" the sage chanted. "It was God's will, Surya." He turned briskly

to his young charges. "And now, Indra's court awaits our arrival."

Surya and Samjna gazed skywards as their sons followed Sage Narada and

were soon lost to view. Samjna's eyes were moist.

Surya placed a consoling arm on her shoulders and said: "Come, Samjna:

Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami eagerly await their mother's return."

Samjna blinked away her tears and smiled up at him.

"Mother!" The delighted chorus reached Samjna's ears as soon as she

entered Surya's palace.

Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami came running into her outstretched arms.

Samjna hugged them close, lavishing her kisses on their bent heads. Her

eyes brimmed with tears of joy. Surya smiled fondly at the poignant scene

of Samjna's reunion with her children after long years of separation.

The sound of hesitant feet at the door caught their attention: Sani, Saavarni

and Tapati edged slowly into the room with anxious eyes. They stopped

some distance away from Samjna and gaped at her in astonishment – she

was a mirror-image of their mother, Chaaya!

"Mother …" Tapati's quavering voice broke the momentary silence. She

took a tentative step forward. Samjna smiled encouragingly at the three

children and beckoned them to her.

"Come here, darlings! I am your mother."

Pushing Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami gently aside, Samjna now gathered

Sani, Saavarni and Tapati into her open arms and embraced them.

Sani looked up at her. "Mother … that mother …?" he questioned, looking

back uncertainly at the door.

Samjna raised her voice and called, "Chaaya!"

Chaaya slowly entered the room and stood by the door, doubt clouding her

face. At Samjna's warm smile, she lowered her head guiltily.

"Chaaya, come here!" Samjna commanded her shadow.

Chaaya approached Samjna with reluctant feet – her eyes were fixed on her

three children.

"Chaaya, look at me!" Samjna insisted.

When Chaaya finally met her gaze, Samjna continued: "Chaaya, your

mission is complete. It is time for you to forget your individuality and

renounce your motherhood." Her voice became gentler. "Chaaya, you know

that you are merely my shadow and there is no reality to your existence.

Come, merge with me – it is time for us to become one again."

Chaaya gazed speechlessly at Samjna, who urged her: "Come on, Chaaya,

I'm waiting for you!"

As Surya and the children looked on in awe, Chaaya silently moved to

Samjna. She hovered beside her for a second – then, she fused into Samjna.

For a moment, Samjna stood still and sighed, gazing at her shadow which

was now silhouetted on the golden wall. She then turned to her children

with a reassuring smile.

"My dear children, don't worry. Chaaya and I are one and the same. You are

all my very own children." She reached out to caress them all in turn.

Surya smiled fondly at the happy tableaux before him: his family was now

truly complete!

"Unbelievable!" Viswakarma exclaimed. He listened in astonishment as

Surya gave him an account of his family's incredible experience in the

recent past.

Viswakarma sympathized with his son-in-law: "But, I must say that Samjna

was content enough with your radiance when she consented to marry you!"

Surya nodded and then said: "Father, I am determined to reduce the

intensity of my heat and light. This is the only way Samjna and I can live

together." He pleaded with Viswakarma. "I need your help. You must find a

means to cut down my inherent warmth and radiance."

Viswakarma pondered long on this and then addressed his son-in-law:

"Surya, it is practically impossible to reduce your light and heat as long as

you remain in your present form. It is essential that you resume your

original orb shape. This will enable me to use a circular file to reduce the

size of the disc. The orb will automatically lose heat and light in

correspondence with its size – and your present figure will also lose its

equivalent volume of heat and light."

Bowing to Viswakarma's counsel, Surya assumed a yogic posture and took

on the configuration of an orb. The divine architect took up his special file

and carefully shaved away an eighth portion of the disc. Once he was done,

Surya resumed his form. He gazed in surprise at the large quantity of gold

dust heaped on the ground.

Viswakarma remarked: "These gold shavings possess considerable power.

They should be put to good use." He paused thoughtfully. "Yes, I shall

fashion four objects of immeasurable value from this accumulated gold

dust."

"Four objects?" Surya asked.

"Yes, four priceless objects: the discus – Sudarsanam, the trident – Trisul,

the spear – Sakti, and finally, the flying vehicle – the Pushpaka Vimana,

which will wing across the sky like a bird."

Surya smiled at the architect in deep admiration. "Father, the Sudarsanam,

the Trisul, the Sakti and the Pushpaka Vimana are indeed divine objects!"

He asked curiously, "What will you do with them?"

"Surya, let me explain," Viswakarma voice was grave. "The force which

emanates from you when you assume the shape of an orb is in fact Lord

Vishnu's glorious power. I will offer the four divine objects fashioned from

your form to his son, Brahma. Let the Creator decide what to do with

them."

Surya bowed in gratitude to Viswakarma: "I am eternally grateful to you for

your help, father-in-law." He paused. ‘And now, tell me – has my innate

brilliance and heat indeed been reduced?"

Viswakarma smiled. "Samjna, your wife, and my daughter, is the one who

is best qualified to answer that question!"

Surya touched Viswakarma's feet in respect and took his leave.

Samjna was delighted to see Surya return with his heat and light dimmed to

bearable proportions. She gladly devoted herself to the role of wife and

mother once again.

As time passed, Surya could not fail to notice Yama's extraordinarily

staunch discrimination between dharma and adharma : right and wrong. He

recognized that Yama's unique trait was a harbinger of great things to come.

After much thought, he summoned Yama. "My son, I perceive great, latent

stores of wisdom and leadership in you. You must concentrate on

developing your individuality and intelligence. Brahma, the Creator, is best

suited to guide you on the right path." He paused and looked gravely at his

son. "Yama, in order to propitiate Brahma, you must undertake rigorous

penance. Go and commence your tapas in a secluded place of your choice."

"I bow to your wishes, father," Yama humbly said.

With his parent's blessings, Yama bid farewell to his brothers and sisters

and set out on his mission.

"And that brings us to the end of our chronicle of Surya's life,"

Nirvikalpananda concluded.

Vimalananda raised a hand to catch his guru’s attention. "Master, I have a

doubt."

Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "What is it, my boy?'

"Did Viswakarma manage to fashion those four divine objects from the gold

shavings from Surya's orb?"

"Undoubtedly, Vimalananda. We do know for a fact that the Sudarsanam

discus is Lord Vishnu's weapon, Lord Shiva carries the Trisul and the Sakti

is Lord Subrhmanya's weapon of choice. Brahma distributed these arms to

them."

‘And what about the Pushpak Vimana, master?" Chidananda asked eagerly.

"Brahma gifted the Pushpak Vimana to his friend, Kubera, the god of

wealth. Later, Ravana, the king of Lanka, forcibly took it from Kubera,"

Nirvikalpananda explained. "Let's leave it at that and take up Chandra's life

story, which is the subject of our next discourse."

He considered his disciples in turn and said: "We know that Taara returned

to her husband Brhaspati, leaving Chandra. Brahma gave Taara's son,

Budha, to Chandra after attesting that the boy sprang from Chandra's loins.

Chandra entrusted his parents, Sage Atri and Anasuya, with Budha's care

and lived a life of solitude in his isolated abode."

He paused. "Chandra passed the time in nostalgic reminiscence of the

halcyon days spent in Taara's company. One day, Sage Narada came to visit

Chandra … "

OceanofPDF.com

The Life OF Chandra

"N arayana!" Narada stood at the threshold of Chandra's palatial abode.

Hearing the familiar chant, Chandra rose reluctantly to receive his guest.

"Welcome, Sage Narada," he said, hands folded in respect.

"May good fortune come your way!" Narada blessed him. The sage's keen

eyes noted Chandra's listless eyes and lethargic gait. "So, Chandra: it looks

like you continue to wallow in sad nostalgia!"

Chandra heaved a deep sigh. "I must confess that my heart still aches with

memories of the past."

Narada gave a wry smile. "I can well understand that an illicit relationship

with one's master's wife will cause heartache." His mocking tone became

gentle. "Chandra, Taara has departed from your home – it is not right to let

her memories continue to dwell in your heart."

"That's easier said than done!" Chandra remarked with a scornful curl of his

lips.

"Narayana!" Narada settled himself in a comfortable chair. "Well, it was

easy enough for Taara!"

Chandra eyes asked a question.

"Yes, Chandra," Narada smiled complacently. "Unlike you, Taara has erased

the past from her heart and mind. She is now content to be a devoted wife."

Chandra bowed his head in sorrow.

Narada continued more sympathetically: "Taara has managed to put her past

misadventure behind her because she could count on her husband's

unconditional support." He paused meaningfully.

Chandra's eyes darkened with an undecipherable grief.

Narada's voice assumed a persuasive tone. "Chandra, you are young. You

are punishing yourself needlessly by living here in self-imposed solitude,

without a woman's companionship." He urged: "Think, Chandra:

Brhaspati's unstinting affection and concern were instrumental in erasing

the lingering shadow of your memory from Taara's heart. In the same way, a

woman's loving companionship will free you from Taara's stubborn hold."

Chandra nodded his head in half-hearted agreement.

"You must get married, Chandra," Narada stated firmly. "Marriage is the

most reliable remedy for love-sickness!" An impish smile lit his face.

Chandra turned his back to Narada and stood stiffly, staring at the wall.

The sage continued: "If it is the difficulty of finding a bride, after the

debacle of your elopement, which worries you – let your mind rest easy!

Your extraordinary good looks and youth are reason enough for everyone to

assume that it was your master's wife who seduced you."

Narada paused a moment. Then, "I'm sure you are familiar with Daksha

prajapati: at present, his palace is bursting at the seams with lovely

maidens!" He lowered his voice suggestively. "In fact, right now, there are

twenty-seven girls, shining like beauteous stars, who are ready to get

married." His keen eyes noted that Chandra's shoulders relaxed fractionally.

Narada continued: "Daksha knows me well – if I were to go to him with a

proposal … "

Chandra turned to face Narada. There was a new animation in his face.

Narada smiled in satisfaction. "So, Chandra, shall I approach Daksha and

his wife on your behalf?"

"No," Chandra said quickly. "I would prefer to ask my parent's permission

before making any move."

"Take it from me – you can safely leave it to Daksha to obtain your parent's

consent. He is a go-getter beyond compare!"

For the first time since Narada's arrival, Chandra smiled.

Narada rose and locked eyes with Chandra: "Listen to me, Chandra. Taara

is no longer the Taara of old. She has willed herself to become Brhaspati's

true-hearted wife. You must not entertain fantasies about another man's

staunch, wedded consort."

With this grave warning, the sage made his departure.

Daksha prajapati frowned in deep thought, as he considered Narada's

proposal. He remarked discontentedly: "Narada, Aatreya is notorious for

taking his master's wife to bed!"

"Narayana!" exclaimed the sage. "Once she fell in love with him, Taara

used her irresistible beauty as bait to trap the naive Chandra. He was but a

callow youth whom she enticed into her bed." He paused and pointed out:

"Anyway, Brhaspati himself has conceded that their sins have been purged."

Daksha murmured uncertainly, "You are right, but … "

His wife interrupted: "Narada, tell me what you think – is Chandra a

suitable groom for my daughter?"

Narada turned to Prasootidevi. "Not daughter – daughters!" He smiled at the

bewildered expression on her face. "This is not my proposal: it comes from

my father, Brahma. I am only the executor of his will." He continued

reassuringly. ‘As to whether Chandra is worthy of your daughters,

remember that his handsomeness captivated Taara and she was willing to

have a child by him." Narada smiled. "Your twenty-seven daughters are

glowing beauties. Let Chandra be surrounded by these lovely stars."

"So, this has been ordained by Lord Brahma. Very well," Daksha made up

his mind. "Let us obtain permission from Atri and Anasuya to make

Chandra our son-in-law." The prajapati stood up decisively.

"Fortune will smile on us!" Narada pronounced his benediction on their

cause. "I will accompany you to Atri's ashram ."

Atri and Anasuya extended a warm welcome to their unexpected guests.

When Daksha explained the purpose of their visit, Atri and Anasuya

exchanged astonished glances – a marriage proposal for their errant son?!

Atri bowed his head in sorrow. "Our Chandra sinned grievously by sleeping

with his master's wife: his action has brought great dishonor to us, his

parents." He sighed. "We were obliged to take on the responsibility of

bringing up his son through Taara."

Narada brushed aside his recriminations. "Sage Atri, forget the past.

Budha's birth as Chandra and Taara's son happened by divine decree." He

argued, "The time is now ripe to accept Daksha's daughters as Chandra's

wives."

Atri smilingly pointed out: "Narada, you are using the plural form."

Narada said serenely, "My choice of the plural was deliberate, Maharshi."

He elucidated with a smile: "Lord Brahma has made it explicit that Chandra

is destined to have a large number of wives!"

"It is becomingly increasingly clear that Lord Brahma himself firmly holds

the reins of our Chandra's past, present and future!" Atri exclaimed.

"I can readily accept that," Anasuya said aside to Prasooti. "You must be

aware that Chandra was born to me as part of Lord Brahma's essence."

"Yes, Anasuya, it is Lord Brahma who sent Narada with the proposal to

make our daughters your daughters-in-law," Prasooti replied in calm

resignation.

"Twenty-seven girls …" Anasuya said thoughtfully. Then, she shrugged

aside her misgivings and smiled mischievously. "Well, I must say that, with

this veritable army of wives standing guard, our Chandra will definitely not

have the time or inclination to think about another man's wife."

The others laughed aloud at Anasuya's light-hearted repartee.

Still chuckling, Atri turned to Daksha. "Daksha prajapati, Anasuya and I

accept this proposal. You may make arrangements for the marriage."

"Narayana!" Narada exclaimed in satisfaction. As the assembly discussed

the coming marriage with mounting excitement, Budha approached them

with an armful of sacrificial wood and grass.

Atri beckoned the boy forward. "Budha, my son, come and offer your

respects to Daksha prajapati, his wife, Prasooti, and sage Narada."

Budha obediently paid obeisance to them all and received their blessings.

Narada smiled at the boy. "Budha is a replica of Chandra as a boy. Taara but

admitted the truth when she acknowledged that Budha was Chandra's son."

Atri and Daksha, with Narada's counsel, fixed an auspicious date for the

marriage.

Chandra's marriage was solemnized on schedule. The groom stood in the

midst of a circle of twenty-seven radiant brides, each of whom held a

sparkling diya in her hand. Under Prasooti's direction, her daughters –

Aswini, Bharani, Krthika, Rohini, Mrgasira, Aardra, Punarvasu, Pushyami,

Aaslesha, Makha, Purva Phalguni, Uttara Phalguni, Hastha, Chitta, Swathi,

Visakha, Anuradha, Jyeshta, Moola, Poorvaashaada, Uttaraashaada,

Sravana, Dhanishta, Sathabhisha, Poorvaabhaadra, Uttaraabhaadra and

Revathi – gracefully held out their clay lamps towards their husband. The

handsome Chandra glowed in the mesmerizing flicker of the golden flames.

"Behold the handsome Chandra among his beautiful stars!" exclaimed the

appreciative Narada to Daksha prajapati.

Chandra slowly turned to look at each of his brides in turn. His eyes shone

with the reflected light of the diyas. Suddenly, he came to a standstill: his

eyes were arrested by one face whose radiance seemed to outdo the

combined luster of the other twenty-six.

'Hmmm,' Chandra thought, 'I know her name … yes, Rohini!' He turned

away with difficulty.

'She pulls at me like an irresistible magnet!'

Chandra and his brides arrived at his palatial abode. The air was thick with

palpable excitement, as the girls prepared themselves for their roles as

dutiful wives, as advised by their mother. The three eldest, Aswini, Bharani

and Krthika, prepared the first meal at their new home. The chattering

group laid the dining table and waited expectantly for their husband's

entrance. Suddenly, Aswini realized that Rohini was nowhere to be seen!

She turned to Moola and said, "Sister, go and see what Rohini is up to."

The others laughed at this.

Moola remarked jocularly, ‘As if she has worked any harder than the rest of

us!" and prepared to go in search of her sister. But, before she crossed the

room, the door opened and Rohini entered in their husband's company.

Rohini leaned on Chandra's arm which encircled her slender waist like a

belt of gold. Laughing at some shared joke, they were oblivious to the

presence of the other twenty-six sisters. Chandra and Rohini blithely seated

themselves side by side at the table. As the others debated as to who should

join them, Chandra firmly resolved the issue, by declaring unequivocally:

"Rohini and I will eat first and then spend some time enjoying the breeze in

the garden. The rest of you can eat together after we leave the hall."

He paused and looked expectantly at them. "Come, now – who is going to

serve us?"

Once Chandra and Rohini left for the garden, an uneasy silence prevailed in

the hall. The other twenty-six sisters sat down to a meal which seemed to

have turned into ashes in their mouths. After hurriedly swallowing a few

mouthfuls, they followed in the couple's wake. To their surprise, not a trace

of the two was to be found! After a futile search of every nook and corner

of the garden, they held an anxious consultation.

"Perhaps they have returned to his chamber while we were having our

meal," said Aswini thoughtfully.

Bharani agreed and said, "Yes, that must be it! Come, let us join them at

once … otherwise our husband will be angry!"

The girls hurried indoors again.

Aswini and her younger sisters came to a sudden standstill outside

Chandra's room as Rohini's voice pealed in laughter from within.

"What will my sisters think?!" they heard her exclaim.

"Who cares?" Chandra replied flippantly. He paused and continued

playfully: "Tell me something – at our recent meal, did you eat all the items

served on your plate, or only those which you liked?"

"Only the ones I liked, of course," Rohini said.

"There you are!" laughed Chandra. "Just as we cannot eat all the items

served at a meal, we cannot enjoy the company of all the inhabitants of an

abode. Just as we choose what we like to eat, we also choose the company

of those we like!"

In agreement, Rohini added her merry laughter to Chandra's deep guffaws.

Aswini soundlessly moved away from the taunting door and made her way

to a distant room. Her younger sisters followed sadly. They silently lay

down in a row on the floor and settled down to their first night as brides in

their new home.

Aswini,' Prasooti's voice reverberated hollowly in her ears. 'You will be

your husband's senior wife. Chandra will first seek your intimacy. Act in

accordance with his wishes and gladden his heart. Also ensure that your

younger sisters please him in every way.' Aswini's eyes filled with unshed

tears.

Krthika, lying stiffly awake beside her, whispered: "Sister, why are things

going wrong? Didn't mother say that our husband would give you

precedence?"

Brushing her own doubts aside, Aswini consoled her younger sister. "Who

knows? Maybe he assumed that Rohini is the eldest among us." She

whispered, "Don't worry, everything will work out."

The atmosphere in the room was oppressive with the heavy sighs of the

twenty-six forlorn new brides.

As the days passed, Aswini's hope that Chandra and Rohini would come to

see the error of their ways gradually dimmed. Chandra ceased to look at, let

alone talk with, any of his wives, except Rohini. He was completely

immune to their overtures. They were no longer allowed to even wait on

him at his meals. Rohini alone served his food, with Chandra tenderly

feeding her the choicest morsels from his own plate.

Rohini's indifference to their plight deeply wounded her sisters. They had

grown up together, sharing their childhood song and dance and happy play.

Now, the same sister who had enjoyed their warm companionship and

intimate confidences, studiedly ignored their very presence. She looked on

them as if they were twenty-six strangers in her home: not just strangers,

but servants who were duty-bound to obey her every command.

The days merged into weeks and the weeks into months. Chandra continued

to keep the sisters at an ever-growing distance, treating them with icy

indifference.

One day, Mrgasira declared: "Enough is enough, sisters!" Her voice was

resolute. "It is time we took a stand against this injustice and asserted

ourselves." She looked at the others in turn. "Today, when our husband and

Rohini go for their customary swim in the pond, we will insist on

accompanying them."

Aardra spoke up in agreement. "Yes, we must show some spirit if we are to

be given consideration. I propose that we join them in the pond - even if it

is over our husband's objection."

The other sisters silently nodded their approval.

Chandra and Rohini, hands clasped affectionately, walked through the door

leading to the garden. Rohini's sisters, adhering to their plan, followed close

behind them. Chandra, descending the steps to the pond, paused and looked

back in irritation. He frowned darkly.

"Stop right there!" His voice was harsh. "Where do you think you are

going? Return indoors at once and go about your assigned tasks!"

Mrgasira and Aardra resolutely ignored his words, and continued their

descent towards the pond.

"I said stop!" Chandra's voice was white-hot with fury. "What is your

name?"

"Mrgasira … "

"Mrga – how very appropriate your name is!" Chandra's voice dripped with

sarcasm. "It explains why you are behaving like an animal!"

He turned angrily to the others. "Go in, at once: all of you!"

Mrgasira, deeply wounded by her husband's words, dissolved into tears and

ran indoors, accompanied by a trembling Aardra. Their other sisters

followed them with downcast eyes and heavy hearts.

Chandra and Rohini's jeering laughter hounded them into the palace.

A pall of collective gloom descended on Aswini and her twenty-five

younger sisters. Far from the comfort and security of their childhood home,

and bereft of their parent's affection, the girls wilted under the humiliation

and insults meted out to them on a daily basis. The husband whom they had

joyfully followed to their new home treated them with utter disdain, and a

cold indifference, which cut them to the quick.

Chandra's harshness was compounded by Rohini's selfishness and

overbearing manner. Spurned by their husband, and constantly goaded by

their sister, Daksha's twenty-six daughters sank into despair.

One afternoon, the despondent girls sat in abject misery, exchanging a few

desultory words.

"Narayana!" They looked up to see Sage Narada standing before them.

They quickly rose to welcome him with respectfully folded hands.

The perceptive sage took one look at their woebegone countenances and

exclaimed in surprise: "Aswini! What is the matter? Where is Chandra? Is

he away from home?"

"He is at home, Maharshi," Aswini said softly, "But we do not know

where."

"And what does that mean?" Narada questioned her sharply.

Bharani spoke up. "We are always in the dark as to where he and our sister,

Rohini, may be …" she broke off sadly.

Narada looked intently at the group. The sisters sported a uniformly forlorn

look: disheveled hair, carelessly arranged attire, red-rimmed eyes and grief-

stricken faces, with kohl-smudged cheeks marking the track of hot tears.

The sage addressed the eldest girl. ‘Aswini, the anguish in your hearts is

reflected clearly on your faces. As the person instrumental in your marriage

to Chandra, your happiness is my responsibility. Tell me: what is the

matter?"

Daksha's daughters gazed speechlessly at his concerned face, unable to

meet his eyes.

Narada continued: "Your father and I are both Brahma's maanasaputras:

this makes us brothers. So, I am also your father." He paused. "Your forlorn

looks are far removed from the customary joy of new brides. What is the

reason for this?"

Her younger sisters turned expectantly to Aswini, letting her take the lead.

Narada addressed her: "Come, Aswini, my daughter: confide in me as you

would in your father."

Narada's kindness finally broke down her wall of reserve and Aswini

dissolved into wracking sobs. Her sisters wiped their own tears as she gave

Narada a painful account of the indifference and humiliation Chandra and

Rohini had subjected them to over the past months.

Narada listened attentively to their tale of woe. He then gathered them

together and said: "So, this is the issue! Let us see what is to be done …"

He pondered for a few moments. "You are innocent girls. You must now

make a deliberate effort to attract your husband and secure his love, like

Rohini."

"And how do we go about that, Maharshi ?" Bharani mustered the courage

to ask.

Narada smiled gently at them. "You are all soft-natured and benign: these

saatvic traits have their own merit, but much more is needed to attract a

man. Wallowing in sorrow and patiently waiting for your husband's

attention will get you nowhere." Narada paused meaningfully. "Action is

called for. It is time you learnt to add the passion of rajas to the tenderness

of satva.’’ He looked at their attentive faces: "Devotion and respect alone

will not win your husband's affection. Passion and charm are also essential

to gain his love: do you understand?"

Daksha's daughters exchanged looks of dawning comprehension.

Narada continued: "Let's translate this into practical terms: you must be

better groomed and ornamented than Rohini. You must bubble with high

spirits and scintillating conversation." He smiled at them. "Surround

Chandra with an effervescence of happiness – smother him with joy!"

Aswini nodded her head in eager agreement. Her sisters shared her rising

excitement.

"Narayana!" Narada stood up. "I will return in four days. I am confident

that your faces will be glowing with happiness when I see you again."

It was dusk. Aswini and her younger sisters stood in the corridor outside

Chandra's room, waiting expectantly for their husband's arrival. They were

attractively decked out like new brides: from their exquisite sarees to the

fragrant braids of flowers in their hair. They had made impeccable

preparations for his reception.

'Here he comes!' Their palpable excitement throbbed in the air.

Chandra strode towards them. The sisters fell smoothly into their well-

rehearsed moves. As he crossed the threshold, Punarvasu and Pushyami

placed a golden platter on the floor before him. Aslesha and Makha each

took a hand and guided him to stand on the plate. Aswini came forward to

tenderly wash his feet with the cool, scented water which Bharani poured

from a golden ewer. Hastha sprinkled the residual water in the plate on her

own head and on the heads of all her sisters. Aswini then garlanded her

husband with colourful, fragrant blossoms.

Chandra frowned in bemusement and absently removed the garland from

his shoulders. Bharani immediately stepped in with another garland. As he

walked forward, Daksha's daughters gently showered Chandra with flowers.

Ignoring all this paraphernalia, Chandra's restless eyes, ablaze with desire,

incessantly sought Rohini.

He turned crossly to Aswini, who stood beside him, and demanded: "Where

is Rohini?"

Before Aswini could find her voice, the door of the bedchamber was flung

open and Rohini stood before them. Chandra's face was immediately

wreathed in tender smiles. He gazed adoringly at Rohini: then, as his eyes

took in her disheveled attire and unadorned hair, he frowned in disapproval

- not at her but at her hapless sisters!

"You call yourselves women?!" he spat at them. "Shamelessly decking

yourselves in gaudy finery!" He paused to glare at them in contempt. "Did

none of you think to offer my Rohini some flowers for her hair?" He hissed,

"You are disgusting!"

Before the shell-shocked eyes of Aswini and her sisters, Chandra removed

the garland from his shoulders and tenderly draped it over Rohini. Placing

his arms round her, her drew her close and walked into the bedroom.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Aswini's doe-like eyes hardened into adamantine stone. Her younger sisters

flinched at the sparks of rage which flashed from them. She remained

frozen in statuesque stillness, oblivious to their soft calls of entreaty. The

humiliation meted out to them the previous evening was an all-consuming

inferno in her soul.

"Sister …" Krthika hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder.

Coming to startled animation, Aswini jumped up and declared resolutely: "I

will no longer tolerate this gross injustice!"

She stormed past her siblings and angrily strode to Chandra's bedchamber.

Her twenty-five younger sisters milled about in confusion for a moment and

then followed in her wake like churning waves after a ship.

Aswini stood defiantly before the closed door and loudly called: "Rohini!"

Her summons echoed angrily through the long corridor.

"Rohini!" the word rang out yet again in challenge. The younger girls

exchanged anxious looks.

"Rohini!" Aswini's insistent call hung in the air. The bedroom door was

flung open: Rohini stood before them, face crimson with rage.

"Shh!" she hissed at them through clenched teeth. "What is the meaning of

this ruckus? Don't you know that he is sleeping?"

"Yes, we do!" spat Aswini. "I am here for the express purpose of awakening

him from his slumber!"

She locked eyes with her sister. "Rohini, snap out of your delusion: are you

not aware of the damage you are causing? Do you realize that you are

instrumental in the humiliation and injustice being meted out to us?" She

struggled to control her rage. "Open your eyes to the circumstances of our

marriage, sister. Chandra does not belong exclusively to you: we are all his

wives. Admit the error of your ways and give way!"

Rohini's lips curled into a cruel sneer. She held out her hands in sarcastic

parody. "Look, sister: I have not forcibly tied him to me with the edge of

my saree ! If he voluntarily chooses to hover round me like a honeybee

poised over a flower, what can I do?" She gave an elaborate shrug. "You are

welcome to entice him in any way you like – rest assured I will not stand in

your way."

"It is your bounden duty to remind him of his obligation towards us,"

insisted Aswini.

Rohini looked haughtily at her sister. "Aswini, let me make one thing clear:

on the day of our marriage, I did not ask him to take me alone into his

embrace and spurn the rest of you. And now, I will not spurn his advances

and ask him to embrace you instead!" She continued on a mocking note.

"Shall we just say that I am lucky … and you are not?!"

Aswini raised her voice in angry accusation. "Rohini, shame on you – you

are behaving like a harlot! One last time, let me warn you: you had better

accept that we too have our claim on him as his wives. Don't you dare … "

"What? – steal your rights?" Rohini interrupted with a sniff of disdain. "I

am sick of your mealy-mouthed platitudes and tears. Leave me alone!" She

slammed the door in their faces.

"That's the last straw!" Aswini shook in uncontrollable rage. She moved

angrily towards the closed door – only to come to a sudden halt. The door

flew open on its own accord – Chandra stood before them, his eyes blazing

with temper.

"So, you are ready for a confrontation, is it?" He gave a snort of disgust.

"Well, let me spell it out for you once and for all: Rohini is the love of my

life. She is the only reason I have given you access to this palace. Don't

waste your petty wiles with flowers and scented water on me!" His mocking

voice lacerated their sensibilities like a whipcord.

He turned angrily toward Aswini: "And, as for you, I heard every word you

said about my Rohini. Now, just get this into your thick head: Rohini is my

queen. If you wish to remain in this palace, you may do so only as her

servant – and mine. Understand? Now, go!" He barked his dismissal at them

and turned away with a withering look of contempt.

As Chandra moved back into the bedroom, Rohini came forward to close

the door. Chandra placed his hands possessively on her slender shoulders.

Rohini gave her sisters a triumphant smile as she shut the door in their

faces.

Aswini, head held high, walked out of Chandra's palace, followed by her

sisters.

Daksha prajapati seethed with indignation as he listened to his daughter's

tale of woe. Prasooti's eyes misted at the sight of their grief-stricken faces.

"Leave aside our son-in-law: he is a stranger," she paused in pained

disbelief. "How could Rohini do this to her own sisters? Her behavior is

inexcusable: she has ruthlessly discarded the relationships lovingly nurtured

over the years!"

"You did not send us to Chandra's palace to be servants!" Aswini declared

passionately. "Why should we submit to that selfish couple's authority? We

would rather stay here and serve our parents." Her sisters chorused their

agreement.

Prasooti turned to her husband. "Swami, what shall we do?"

"I burn with anger at the humiliation meted out to my beloved daughters."

Daksha controlled his temper with difficulty. "But this is not the time to let

emotion cloud my thinking. Understanding and compassion are called for

now, more than ever." He paused and smiled at his daughters: "You are

exhausted by the ordeal of the past months. Stay here for a few days in your

mother's loving care."

He addressed his wife: "Prasooti, I will personally meet Chandra and

Rohini and resolve this issue."

"Narayana!" Narada extended his hand in blessing towards Rohini, who

welcomed him to Chandra's palace.

He asked casually: "Where are your sisters, daughter?" Narada was quick to

note the flash of disquiet in her eyes.

"They have gone to my father's house," Rohini murmured.

"Leaving you alone?" Narada persisted in his interrogation. "Why did they

go? Were they, by any chance, goaded by anger or pique?"

Rohini's eyes shifted uneasily at Narada's inconvenient questions. To her

relief, Chandra made his timely appearance.

"Pranam, Sage Narada," Chandra greeted their visitor. "Maidens love to

adorn themselves with anger and pique, don't they?" His voice was

studiedly careless. "Daksha's daughters have gone on a brief visit to their

parents."

"What a witty answer, Chandra!" The sage's eyes twinkled in wry

amusement. "I must say that you are indeed fortunate to enjoy the anger and

pique of twenty-seven maidens!" He paused meaningfully. ‘As it was I who

arranged your marriage, I take a personal interest in your welfare."

Chandra remained stubbornly silent.

Narada shouldered his lute and rose saying, "I dropped in here on my way

to Brhaspati's ashram. I will be on my way, now."

'Narayana! Narayana!' his chant receded as he disappeared into the distance.

Chandra and Rohini heaved sighs of relief at his departure.

Chandra looked up in startled alarm as Daksha prajapati made his sudden

appearance, accompanied by his twenty-six daughters. Rohini's eyes

clouded with anxiety.

Daksha seated himself majestically on a chair, his daughters ranged behind

him. Rohini alone stood beside Chandra.

The prajapati’s commanding voice filled the hall. "Chandra, I married ten

of my daughters to Dharma, and gave another thirteen as wives to Kasyapa.

In both cases, my girls are leading lives of fulfillment as wives and mothers.

Out of respect for your parents, and in appreciation of your radiant good

looks, I bestowed my twenty-seven beautiful stars on you." He looked

sternly at his son-in-law. "But you have sinned – just as stealing another's

wife is a crime, spurning one's own wife is also a serious offence."

Daksha paused, giving Chandra time to digest his criticism. Chandra

averted his eyes at this overt reference to his misadventure with Taara.

Daksha continued: "You sinned in the past when you eloped with your

master's wife. By humiliating and rejecting Aswini and her twenty- five

younger sisters, you are sinning yet again." His voice lost its severity.

"Chandra, as your father-in-law, I am also your parent. I forgive your

transgression and give you a chance to redeem yourself. Treat all my

daughters with impartial affection. Do not lavish your attention on Rohini

alone and discriminate against the others."

Daksha rose and addressed Aswini: "Aswini, my daughter, take your sisters

and go to your rooms. From today, your husband will keep you all in his

tender care."

The girls obeyed him with rising hope dawning in their faces.

Daksha turned back to Chandra who remained silent. "Aatreya!" Daksha

chided him. "I am waiting to hear your response."

Chandra slowly looked up to meet his father-in-law's intent gaze.

Daksha reiterated: "I am willing to overlook your offence this time." His

voice hardened in warning: "I will not be so magnanimous in the future. If

you continue to sin, rest assured that you will receive a curse from me: you

may consider it to be your dowry from your father-in-law. Is that

understood?"

Chandra nodded perfunctorily.

Daksha addressed Rohini: "As for you, Rohini, go to your room at once: I

wish to speak with you in private."

Rohini quickly made her way to her room, followed by her father. She

closed the door and stood waiting in silence, her head bent in contrition.

"Rohini!" Daksha's voice was stern. "Your mother and I never dreamt of the

selfishness lying dormant in you all these years! Are you aware that you are

casting a blight on the lives of your twenty-six sisters? You are not

Chandra's senior wife - you have usurped Aswini's rightful position with

your guile." His voice grew gentle. "Remember that, like you, your sisters

too cherished a thousand tender hopes when they entered this house as new

brides."

His penetrating gaze brought a flush to her face, as he continued: "Rohini, I

expect you to make amends for your unacceptable behavior, examine your

conscience and do your duty. It is your obligation to make your husband see

the error of his ways. Apologize to your sisters and live amicably with

them."

‘As you command, father …" Rohini murmured.

"I go now - but, rest assured, I will be back if further injustice is done to

your sisters!"

Daksha prajapati stalked out of her room.

Rohini collapsed weakly on the bed.

Aswini and her younger sisters waited expectantly in their chamber, but

their hopes were dashed yet again: Chandra did not summon them.

Seeing their chagrined faces, Awini assumed a cheerful tone and said:

"Sisters, I'm certain that our husband is finding it awkward to make the first

overture towards us. Consider his sensibilities and pride – he would not

want us to think that his actions are dictated by fear of our father."

She smiled encouragingly at them. "Let's be patient. He will come to us in

his own time."

Her sisters struggled to convince themselves of the truth of her argument.

Rohini sat hidden among the shadows of the bedchamber, lines of anxiety

marking her brow. Her father's words echoed ominously in her ear.

Chandra set a lighted lamp beside her and tilted her chin up with gentle

hands. His smile was tender as he reassured her. "My darling, pay no heed

to your father's threats. He fails to see that I am absolutely unsusceptible to

curses." He looked into her eyes. "Now, tell me: is Daksha prajapati greater

than Brhaspati, the preceptor of the gods? Is he more powerful that

Mahendra, the king of the devas?" He paused and gave a defiant smile:

"Even when I made love to his wife and begat a son through her, did the

great Brhaspati dare to curse me? Did Indra, his staunch adherent, think to

pronounce a malediction on me?"

"Why not, Swami ?" ventured Rohini, timidly.

Chandra gave a proud laugh and declared: "The handsome Chandra,

beloved son of Atri and Anasuya, is immune to curses!"

Rohini said hesitantly, "My sisters … "

Chandra gave an impatient shrug. "Oh, they can go to the dogs, for all I

care." He caressed her cheeks and said: "Rohini, I swear I belong to you

alone - Rohini's lover … Rohini's servant … Rohini's husband! Your sisters

will remain Daksha's daughters: they can never be Chandra's wives." His

voice was softly cajoling. "Come, give me a smile, dearest!"

"Swami," Rohini murmured.

His eyes blazed in sudden rage. He hissed through clenched teeth: "What

insolence! To go to their father's house without my permission – to make

false accusations against me – to hide behind Daksha's threats!"

Chandra's face was dark with ominous fury. "Let the new day dawn: I will

show them who I am!"

Rohini snuggled up to Chandra and rested her cheek against his broad chest.

She gazed adoringly into his angry eyes. "Swami … your anger …"

Chandra looked down at her, the glow of love banishing the darkness in his

eyes. "Rohini, one touch from you is all it takes to convert my anger into

affection."

His arms tightened round her.

Aswini and her sisters jumped up in glad surprise as Chandra entered their

room unannounced.

One thought flashed through all their minds: 'He has seen the error of his

ways!'

Chandra looked at each of them in turn. "Yes, I have come for you."

Twenty-six faces glowed in rising hope.

"Just as I drew Rohini close to my heart …" he paused deliberately: "I will

not do the same with you!"

He laughed cruelly, as the incipient light of happiness was snuffed from

their eyes. "How dare you go to your father's house without my permission?

You had the temerity to make false accusations against me and my beloved

Rohini! You even had the gumption to instigate your father to threaten me!"

He sneered at them. "Is that how you prove your loyalty to your wedded

husband?"

He glared at them defiantly. "Do you think I can be intimidated that easily?"

He gave a sniff of disdain. "I give a fig for your father's curses! No one –

neither your father, nor mine – can force me to accept you as my wives!"

His voice assumed a decisive tone. "Get this clear in your wooly- headed

minds: Rohini is my only wife. You are her servants – and mine. This is the

immutable truth!"

The sisters stood stock-still in stunned disbelief. The only sign of life in

their frozen bodies was the tears which coursed down their pale cheeks.

Rohini took up her position close beside her husband. Their arms entwined

in a snake-like embrace. A triumphant smile lit up her eyes.

She glared haughtily at her sisters and said: "I hope that has made things

clear to you all. You know your position here. It's up to you to take it or

leave it!" She gave an elaborate, indifferent shrug.

Sparks of rage banished the tears from the eyes of Daksha's other daughters,

which now flashed fire.

"Has the cat got your tongues?" Chandra rudely asked: "You heard my

queen – do you consent to your role as servants? Rohini cannot wait all day

to assign your menial tasks."

Aswini straightened her shoulders. She held her head high and made her

way to the door with decisive steps. Her younger sisters followed her lead

and trooped behind her.

Rohini shouted at their retreating backs: "Oh, drop your veneer of hauteur!

Don't you want to know what chores I have in mind for you?"

Not a break in their strides, Aswini and her sisters crossed the threshold and

walked away without a backward glance. Chandra and Rohini scornfully

watched their departure.

Chandra looked down fondly at Rohini: "We are well rid of that gaggle!

Now we have the palace to ourselves!"

"And what shall we do with all this privacy?" Rohini smiled up at him

seductively, moving back to lean her head on his muscular chest. She

reached back with her uplifted hands to clasp his neck, garlanding him with

her slender arms. Chandra's hands encircled her slim waist.

Daksha's daughters dimmed into a fast receding speck on the horizon.

"Chandra!" The furious voice was a resounding clap of thunder which

shattered the short-lived privacy of the palace.

Chandra and Rohini jumped up at Daksha prajapati’s peremptory summons.

Rohini blanched with fear. Chandra reassured her with a confident smile

and pressed her hands.

"Chandra! Come out at once!" Daksha's command rang through every nook

and cranny of the abode.

Chandra, with Rohini clinging to his side, walked to the entrance with

studied nonchalance and confronted Daksha prajapati and his twenty-six

daughters.

"Welcome!" he said, with an elaborate gesture of invitation.

Daksha locked eyes with him. "It is not I who seek an invitation into your

palace: it is my daughters who come to claim their rightful place in your

life." He glared at his son-in-law. "For the last time, are you willing to

accept my daughters as your lawfully-wedded wives?"

"Father-in-law, of course I accept that I married your twenty-six daughters,

and Rohini. On your part, I'm sure you will accept that it is the wife's duty

to serve her husband." He shrugged indifferently. "I have made it clear to

your daughters time and again: I am always willing to accept their services

as servants."

"Chandra!" Daksha roared in dire warning.

Chandra calmly ignored his shout and continued: "If they give me their

consent to serve and obey Rohini and me, I am ready to invite them in."

"You insolent reprobate! Do you not know that wives are queens, as well as

servants, to their husbands?" Daksha drew himself up to his full height.

"Hear me, you degenerate …"

"Oh, we are going to pronounce curses, are we?" Chandra's voice dripped

with sarcasm. He glared at Daksha defiantly. "I dare you to do your worst!"

Daksha's measured words rang ominously in the charged silence of the

palace: "Hear me, Chandra: your arrogant body will be ravaged by

tuberculosis. The horrendous disease will lay waste to your overweening

pride and lust. You will decline until you wane into nothingness. This is the

curse of Daksha prajapati !"

The cocksure Chandra retorted sarcastically: "I am indeed blessed!"

The fuming Daksha turned his angry eyes on Rohini. "As for you, Rohini,

your father's malediction will bring you immeasurable grief. You took

pleasure in tormenting your sisters. Now, you can derive pleasure from

tending your disease-ravaged husband!"

To Chandra's stunned disbelief, Daksha's curse took its terrible course

immediately. Chandra's handsome body, in the prime of youth and vigor,

weakened by the hour. His health wasted away, along with his arrogance

and pride.

Rohini labored in deep sorrow to mitigate her inconsolable husband's pain.

As the debilitating disease went on the rampage in Chandra's physique, its

effect impacted the workings of the cosmos. Chandra's rapidly diminishing

radiance was faithfully reflected by the decreasing light of the moon. As the

moon waned, the trees, creepers and herbs which derived nourishment from

its light languished and decayed. Medicinal herbs, particularly dependent on

the energizing pull of the moon, wilted – as a consequence, people fell prey

to fatal diseases. An imminent dearth of medicine and food threatened the

balance of the universe. The earth, lacking the cool benediction of

moonlight, heated up with the lingering warmth of the sun. As the moon's

radiance diminished, darkness reigned supreme at night.

The agitated devas milled about in confusion, seeking the reason for this

strange lunar phenomenon.

"Narayana!" The chant announced Narada's arrival in Devaloka. Indra

hurried to him with anxious questions.

"Let us go to Chandra: he will throw light on this catastrophe," suggested

the sage.

A contingent of devas, led by Indra, accompanied Narada to Chandra's

abode. To their shock, Chandra granted them audience, reclining weakly on

a couch! His former radiance was now but a flickering, intermittent glow.

Indra exclaimed in consternation: "Chandra! What is the meaning of this?

You, the king of medicinal herbs, reduced to such debilitating weakness?!

How did you contract this wasting disease?"

Chandra remained in uncomfortable silence, his eyes averted from his

visitors.

"Narayana!" Narada advised him. "Come, Chandra: it is always better to

confess one's sin and seek reparation. Hiding the root of a problem can only

be counterproductive to finding a remedy."

The shamefaced Chandra recounted the chain of events leading to Daksha

prajapati’s curse.

"In my arrogance, I was confident that I was immune to curses," he

confessed in abject misery.

"He dared my father to do his worst … and this is the sorry result!" Rohini

sighed in pained resignation.

Chandra turned beseechingly to Indra: "You must free me from this

disease," he said.

Indra observed: "Chandra, your falling ill is akin to the cure itself

contracting a disease. There is no medicine to combat this disorder." He

continued thoughtfully: "It is the curse which directs your malady. The only

solution is to annul the curse."

"Well said, Mahendra!" said Narada. ‘And that can be done only by Daksha

prajapati ."

"Yes, let us all accompany Chandra to Daksha's palace and plead his cause,"

suggested Indra.

On hearing Indra's impassioned appeal on Chandra's behalf, Daksha

prajapati paced the floor of his vast audience chamber, immersed in

thought. Finally, he came to stand before the anxious group of devas.

"Chandra has undeniably sinned. He repeatedly ignored my counsel and

warnings. You must admit that he deserved to be punished." He frowned

darkly at his offending son-in-law. Daksha turned to the king of the devas .

"However, Indra, as your grandfather, I do not have the heart to turn down

your request."

He made his decision and declared: "I will rescind my curse – but only on

one condition: Chandra must swear to accord my twenty-seven daughters

his impartial love and care. There must be no preferential treatment meted

out to Rohini, or any other one of them. Unfair discrimination in any form

will not be tolerated."

Indra turned to Chandra with his eyebrows raised in interrogation.

Without any hesitation, Chandra prostrated himself at Daksha's feet and

took a solemn oath to cherish his twenty-seven wives with impartial

affection.

Rohini now came forward with tear-filled eyes. "Father, I see the error of

my ways … I beg your forgiveness!" she sobbed.

Daksha nodded and turned to the expectant devas : "Indra, I am ambivalent

about rescinding my curse absolutely." He pondered a moment. "When

Chandra bathes at the auspicious site of the River Saraswati's confluence

with the ocean, his disease will ebb. This invigorating bath will ensure that

his radiance grows progressively brighter for fifteen consecutive days.

Subsequently, for the next fifteen days, his luminescence will gradually

decrease."

He paused and gave his son-in-law a meaningful glance. "From this time,

Chandra's bath in the River Saraswati will serve as a surety for his good

conduct."

"Grandfather," Indra asked uncertainly. "Does this mean that Chandra will

beam with increasing light for the first fifteen days of the month and then

lose his radiance over the next fifteen days?"

"That's right, Indra," Daksha nodded. "Every month, Chandra will be the

waxing moon for fifteen days and then wane for the following fifteen days.

On every new moon day, when his light has reached its nadir, he must

renew himself with his bath."

"Narayana!" said Narada in approval. "This is a solution acceptable to all!"

The satisfied devas , along with Narada, made their departure.

Chandra turned to Daksha prajapati with folded hands. "Father-in-law,

please forgive me!"

"You received my forgiveness when I withdrew my curse." Daksha advised

Chandra. "Maintain the cycle of waxing and waning by bathing at the

confluence of the River Saraswati with the ocean. Above all, love your

twenty-seven wives equally."

Chandra then begged Prasooti's pardon and obtained his mother-in- law's

blessings. Finally, his eyes filled with tears of repentance, he asked

forgiveness from Aswini and her sisters.

Taking his leave of them all, Chandra made his way to the holy point where

the River Saraswati met the ocean, and immersed himself in the cool

waters. To his blessed relief, the wasting disease was checked and Chandra

recovered his old radiance.

After spending a few days at Daksha's abode, a much-subdued and wiser

Chandra returned to his palace with his wives. From that day, Chandra

became known as 'the husband of many wives' – and one who lavished his

care impartially on them all.

Trees, plants and herbs flourished under the renewed light of the life-giving

moon. Living creatures thrived, blessed with nourishment and good health.

The earth's happiness was but a reflection of the radiant joy which filled

Chandra's abode.

‘And that is the story of Chandra's life!" Nirvikalpananda smiled at his

enraptured disciples.

"Master," said Vimalananda, with a twinkle in his eyes, "It appears that

Chandra is an aesthete!" He chuckled. "Just look at him: eloping with the

beautiful Taara before his marriage and favoring Rohini after wedlock!"

There was the slightest tinge of disdain in the student's voice.

"That is just the superficial aspect of Chandra's nature, Vimalanada,"

Nirvikalpananda cautioned. "We must subject the matter to analysis and

ascertain the underlying, deeper truth." He paused for emphasis.

"Remember, Chandra is one of the Navagrahas. As he is divine, we cannot

apply our contemporary rules and traditions as a yardstick to gauge his

virtue."

He addressed them seriously. "Divine entities always contribute to the well-

being of the three worlds. As a result of Chandra's love for Taara, the

cosmos was blessed with Budha's incarnation as a Navagraha. Again,

Brhaspati used his wife's adulterous behavior to categorically assert that a

woman will be absolved of the sin of adultery through menstruation.

Brhaspati not only proclaimed this ideology, but also applied it in his own

life."

He continued after a pause. "Coming to Chandra's partiality towards Rohini

– this is the root cause for the waxing and waning of the moon. This has

benefitted the environment. In short, the worlds enjoy prosperity because

Chandra, surrounded by his twenty-seven stars, graces the sky."

"Your logical explanation has erased our doubts, master," declared

Shivananda.

Nirvikalpananda smiled. "Very well, then. It is time for you to hear the life

story of Kuja, the third of the Navagrahas. You recall that Kuja took form

from a drop of perspiration from Paramashiva's brow and Bhudevi accepted

him as her son. Kuja grew up under her care …"

The master resumed his discourse.

The Life of Kuja

"M other, what does the name, Kuja, mean?"

Bhudevi, goddess of the earth, smiled and directed her fond gaze towards

her beloved son. Kuja was now in the prime of youth. He towered over her

like a tree which has been nurtured from a sapling with the utmost care and

devoted attention. Bhudevi's eyes filled with pride: her handsome Kuja was

no ordinary tree – he was a unique Saiva tree, imbued with Lord Shiva's

own essence!

"Mother!" Kuja waved his long, shapely fingers before her face. "Stop

staring at me and answer my question."

"I never tire of looking at you, Mangala," Bhudevi said lovingly.

‘Ahah!" Kuja exclaimed. ‘Another name: now, you have to tell me its

meaning too!" He laughed merrily.

"Very well, Angaaraka," his mother smiled.

"Yet another name!" Kuja's eyes twinkled in glee. "Yes, my son: and I shall

tell you its meaning too!"

Kuja came to sit close beside her, then stretched out his long limbs on the

ground and lay his head in her commodious lap. He looked up into her eyes

with his endearing smile.

"Mother, I don't know why it is, but there is nothing which gives me more

solace than resting in your lap."

"That is my good fortune, son," Bhudevi smiled serenely. "Innumerable

living beings, sorely exhausted by their trials and tribulations, seek balm for

their souls in the comfort in my lap. I am the blessed mother who rocks her

infants to restful slumber in her soft lap."

"You are the very personification of patience, mother," Kuja's voice was

filled with fond pride.

"One of my many names is Kshama – Patience," observed Bhudevi.

"Is it? And mine is Kuja …" He looked up at her in interrogation.

‘Alright, my son: listen." She paused to collect her thoughts. "I have myriad

names, including Bhumi, Achala, Ananta, Viswambhara, Sthira, Dhara,

Dharani, Dharitri, Dhaatri, Kshoni, Ila, Jagati, Ratnagarbha, Sarvamsaha

and Kshama – which I mentioned earlier. Again, Sarvamsaha connotes one

who patiently bears every burden. Another of my names is the single-

lettered 'Ku.' As you were born to me, Ku, Lord Shiva named you Kuja –

one who is born of Ku."

She smiled at him and continued. "Which means that you can derive names

for yourself from each one of my own numerous monikers! You are

Bhumija … Bhuputra … do you understand, son?"

"Oh, yes!" Kuja clapped his hands in glee. "Like mother, like son: there is

no dearth of our names!" He paused and asked: ‘And what about my second

name, Mangala?"

"That is derived from the fact that you were born on the day of Mangala ,"

explained Bhudevi. She elaborated further, ‘As for Angaaraka, it means

fire. The name denotes your fiery complexion, which glows with the shades

of raging flame."

"Well, mother, it's obvious that none of my names are mere empty titles,"

Kuja laughed.

"No, my son, each one of your names is replete with its own significance –

and all of them are uniquely you!" She gave him an impish smile and

tugged gently at a lock of thick hair. "Now, out with the truth! Don't tell me

you were genuinely unaware of the meanings of your names?!"

Kuja laughed into her eyes. "Can I ever fool you, mother?! Of course, I

know all the meanings!"

"Then why this unnecessary inquisition?"

"Because I always use any pretext to hear my mother's sweet voice," he

confessed charmingly.

"My mother's sweet voice," Bhudevi repeated softly to herself. She

pondered for a moment and then came to a decision. She looked intently

into Kuja's upturned face and said, "Kuja, I would like to tell you something

which I have kept to myself over all these years."

"Go ahead, mother," Kuja shrugged nonchalantly. "Your loving words are

always ambrosia to my ears."

Bhudevi nodded silently. "I want you to know … I want to tell you … I … I

am not your mother!" she ended in a rush.

"Mother!" Kuja gave a bewildered cry and struggled to come to his feet.

Bhudevi laid a strong, but gentle, restraining hand on his head and held it

firmly in her lap.

She bent to lock eyes with him and declared softly: "My precious son, I did

not beget you …" She paused to let him digest this startling disclosure.

"You were born from a sacred drop of perspiration adorning the brow of

none other than Lord Shiva himself." She explained slowly. ‘At that time,

Lord Shiva was immersed in ferocious tapas. As the droplet flowed down

his face, my gravitational force pulled it into my lap – where your head now

rests!" Her warm hands caressed his thick hair.

She continued: "At the instant the droplet came into contact with me, it

vanished and, in its stead, you appeared as a newborn infant. The holy drop

of perspiration from Lord Shiva's brow metamorphosed into you. The Lord,

awakening from his meditation, addressed me: "Bhudevi," he said, "this

infant has sought the shelter of your munificent lap. Raise him as your own

child." And that is how you became my very own child," Bhudevi smiled

down at her son.

A frown marred Kuja's brow. "Mother, why did Lord Shiva not raise me

himself?"

"My son, at that time, Lord Shiva was leading a life of solitude. This was in

the aftermath of the tragic events precipitated by Daksha prajapati’s yajna.

Lord Shiva's consort, Satidevi, burnt herself to ashes in a yogic fire."

Bhudevi continued her explanation. "Lord Shiva was well aware that a

mother's tender care is essential for an infant's welfare. Let me tell you

something, Kuja," she pointed out: "Lord Shiva is none other than my elder

brother. When her brother's baby is motherless, it is but natural for a sister

to step in to nourish the child with her own milk." Her voice radiated love.

"Do you know what divine bliss and happiness I derived from suckling

you?!" Her tears of joy fell as a benediction on Kuja's upturned face.

He gazed gravely into her eyes and declared passionately: "Mother,

whatever be the nuances of your relationship with Lord Shiva, or mine with

you, one thing is engraved in stone for all eternity – you are my mother!"

"That will never change, my son," Bhudevi's voice was equally

impassioned. "You are my son forever. Let it be known that Bhudevi will

bless anyone who earns your favour with the gift of ownership of land."

She continued on a thoughtful note. "Kuja, I think it is time for you to

consider the implication of having a true mother." She calmed his impatient

movement with a gesture. "Yes, my son – she is none other than the consort

of your father, Lord Shiva. Satidevi has taken the avatar of Parvatidevi, the

daughter of Himavanta, the Lord of the Himalayas. She is now reunited

with Lord Shiva in marriage." She smiled down at Kuja. "Like me, she too

has various names, including Durga and Chandika. You have not yet met

your real mother, my son -"

Kuja asked innocently, "Mother … my father's consort … is she beautiful,

like you?"

Bhudevi was effusive in her praise: "Believe me, she is the acme of beauty,

my son! She is Soundarya Lahari- waves of beauty incarnate! Her exquisite

form is unmatched in the three worlds! She is Shivaani and

Trijaganmohini." She said eagerly, "Kuja, you must seek her darshan and

obtain her blessings – she will be eager to bestow boons on you."

Kuja shrugged indifferently. "When I have you, I own the entire universe –

I do not require anyone else's blessings or boons!"

Bhudevi's face was suffused with love for her passionate son. She cajoled

him: "Now, Kuja, don't be unreasonable! The grace of Adiparaasakti, Lord

Shiva's consort, is a gift beyond compare. You are fortunate indeed to have

the Cosmic Mother as your own mother."

She continued on a more practical note: "You have completed your

education and have reached the appropriate age for marriage. Receiving

Goddess Parvati's benediction will be an auspicious beginning to our search

for a bride." She added the clinching argument: "Kuja, this will please me."

Kuja immediately agreed to her proposal and said, ‘Alright, mother. If it

pleases you, I shall pay a visit to Kailash tomorrow itself."

Bhudevi smiled at his alacrity but shook her head thoughtfully. "No, my

son. The best path to obtaining the blessings of gods and goddesses is to

make them condescend to appear before you – not go in search of them."

She advised him: "Do not expend energy in travelling to Kailash. Instead,

devote your entire being towards achieving mastery over your mind and

body. Exercise iron control over your senses. Focus single- mindedly on

your tapas and meditate on Adiparaasakti. Invoke her grace and draw her

irresistibly to you."

Kuja bowed his head in silent acknowledgement of his mother's words.

A tranquil clearing in the forest was the chosen scene of Kuja's penance in

propitiation of Goddess Parvati. Adhering to the guidelines suggested by

Bhudevi, Kuja immersed himself in the deepest meditation. He was lost to

the physical world. The wheel of time continued its relentless circle,

pushing the present into the past and pulling the future into its place. Kuja

remained oblivious to the passage of time, and the coming and going of the

seasons. The dry leaves of autumn which covered his immobile body gave

way to the stark landscape of winter. The tender green leaves and buds of

spring became the ripening fruits and blossoms which basked in the warmth

of the summer sun. Kuja sat still as a statue under the spreading branches of

a tree.

Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati strolled arm in arm on the banks of the

holy Manas Sarovar, the Lake of the Mind. A pair of swans trailed behind

them in the water. The birds, swimming closely in tandem, seemed but a

warm extension of the divine couple's intimacy.

"Swami …" Parvati addressed her Lord.

Lord Shiva's thick, beautiful eyebrows met in an interrogative arch under

his awesome Third Eye, as he turned to his consort.

"Your son, Kuja, is engaged in rigorous tapas – are you aware of this?"

"Is that so?" Lord Shiva's voice was studiedly innocent. "Whom does he

wish to propitiate?"

"Me …" said Parvati hesitantly.

Lord Shiva smiled impishly. "Then, you are the one who should be aware of

his penance, not I!"

"But, he is your son! I did not beget him!" Parvati said in bewilderment.

"Why does he choose to meditate upon me?"

"Look into my eyes and categorically tell me that my son is mine alone and

does not belong to you too!" Lord Shiva challenged her with a twinkle in

his eyes. ‘Are you ready to disown him?"

At Parvati's musical laugh, the swans in the sarovar drew near to share her

joy. "You know very well that your son is also my son: how can I refuse to

accept him?"

"Then, why all these questions?" Lord Shiva teased her.

"Because he emerged from you before I became your consort. This makes

him your son first and foremost. I wanted to know the boon you wish me to

bestow on him."

"Now, now, my love: a father presuming to advise a mother as to what is

best for their son – that is nothing less than humiliating motherhood! A

mother is a better judge than a father as to what best contributes to her son's

welfare." He smiled down at her. ‘After all, a mother is ever-ready to

shower her children with every gift of their asking – in addition to a million

others which they never thought to ask for!"

Parvati moved close to Lord Shiva and warmly embraced him with her

slender arms. "Swami , how beautifully you have described a mother's

heart!" Her voice was thick with emotion.

Lord Shiva chuckled. "I have no mother: perhaps that makes me better

equipped to portray a mother's heart!"

Parvati rewarded him with a sweet smile.

Lord Shiva looked into her sparkling eyes. "Tell me, Parvati: when are you

going to condescend to appear before our son?"

Parvati laughed mischievously. "That's a secret – a divine secret!"

Lord Shiva and Parvati made their way companionably towards their abode.

The swans left the waters of the Manas Saravor and followed close on the

heels of the divine couple. Lord Shiva turned back at the sound of their

softly padded footfalls – his mischievous gaze then fell on Parvati, walking

with infinite grace by his side.

"Parvati, why do you think those swans are following in our footsteps?" He

asked innocuously.

Parvati gave an elegant shrug and smiled. "Swami , I confess that the heart

of a swan is a closed book to me!"

"Well, I know why," said Lord Shiva.

"Shall I tell you?"

"Yes, yes," she said eagerly. "I long to know why!"

"They are intent on the swaying of your shapely hips, my dear – they wish

to study the secret of your beautiful gait!"

Bending to scoop some water from the lake in her cupped hands, in a quick,

playful gesture, Parvati splattered the ice-cold water over the Lord like a

cloudburst. Shiva's delighted laughter ran its merry way through the

sparkling ripples on the lake's surface.

Kuja started at the sharp impact of a falling fruit from the branch above

him.

A frisson of wonder reached its gentle fingers into his deep trance,

awakening his consciousness to renewed awareness of his surroundings. A

fragrance-laden zephyr caressed him tenderly. Far in the distance, he heard

his name softly enunciated by a voice which was sweet music to his ears.

His eyes widened in anticipation and a tremor ran through his body …

A streak of lightening flashed before his eyes … no … it was not lightening

. it was a figure of incredible beauty! It was none other than Goddess

Parvati – Shivaani! Trijaganmohini! Durga! Chandika! The sublime beauty

of the three worlds!

"Mother!" Kuja gave an involuntary cry of awe.

"That is the very word I came to hear from you!" Parvati smiled sweetly at

him. "What is your wish?"

"Mother…" that one magical word was all that Kuja could utter.

"Of course, I am your mother!" Parvati gave a gentle laugh. "What do you

want from me, Mangala?"

'Mangala'- the word struck a chord in Kuja's heart. A wish rose

spontaneously to his lips. "Divine Mother, I was born on the day of

Mangala. And this day – the auspicious day on which I have been blessed

with your darshan – is again the day of Mangala!" He paused to gaze into

the pools of compassion which were her eyes. "Mother, let the name

Mangala become a special bond between us. Grant me the honor of linking

my name with yours, so that our unique relationship resonates through the

corridors of infinity."

"So be it!" She paused. "Kuja, I am deeply moved by your refined intellect

and touching devotion. Yes, your name, Mangala, is also the day of your

birth, and the day on which you received my grace. In recognition of this,

and as an overt manifestation of our intimate connection, from this moment

on, I shall also be known as Mangalachandika."

"I am indeed blessed, Mother Mangalachandika." Kuja folded his hands in

reverence.

"What more do you want from me, son: ask and it shall be yours."

Kuja bowed his head and said, "Mother, grant me a boon of your own

choice."

Goddess Parvati's eyes melted in tenderness. "Kuja, your humility, and

absolute faith in me, warms my heart. You are the son who emerged from

Lord Parameswara's own perspiration. Just as your name is inextricably

linked with mine for all eternity, I now proclaim that wherever you choose

to be present, I will also be there with you. This is the boon I bestow on

you."

"Mother!" Kuja exclaimed in delight.

"Yes, my son. Wherever I grant darshan to my devotees as the fierce

goddess, Mangalachandika, you will also be worshipped along with me."

"Mother, I am indeed doubly blessed." Kuja paid obeisance to the goddess

with his folded hands touching his bowed forehead.

Parvati smiled magnanimously at him and said, "Mangala, here is another

boon for you: whoever worships you will receive my grace in full

measure!"

Kuja, immersed in devotion, prostrated himself at the holy feet of his

mother, Goddess Parvati. The fragrance which had engulfed his senses

slowly faded. He looked up to find himself alone once more.

Bhudevi's joy knew no bounds when she heard of the boons lavished on her

precious son. "Kuja, I am delighted at the turn of events. The spark of

devotion towards the Divine Mother, which has always been inherent in

you, has now spontaneously ignited to earn you her priceless grace!" She

paused to gain his attention. "The name bestowed on you at birth by Lord

Shiva holds my name – Ku. And now, your name is in conjunction with

your other mother: Lord Shiva's consort. Kuja, are you aware of the

greatness of this honour?"

Kuja shook his head in mute puzzlement.

"Both the mothers whose names are one with yours did not beget you

through the normal process of pregnancy. I, Bhumaata, did not give you life

– neither did Chandimaata. What is the significance of this?" She answered

her rhetorical question. "You have experienced the good fortune of taking

birth without undergoing the painful trauma of emerging from the womb.

Likewise, both Bhudevi and Chandikaadevi have been blessed with

motherhood without enduring pregnancy and the distress of childbirth. This

is the momentous significance of your birth, Kuja!"

"Mother, you have made me realize how lucky I am," Kuja smiled in new

awareness of his good fortune.

"Undoubtedly, you are fortunate, my son. And fortune will favour all those

who worship you!" Bhudevi continued: "Now, it is time for you to find a

suitable bride. Go and seek a wife who will serve you with love and

devotion. I wait to solemnize your marriage in the presence of Lord Shiva

and Goddess Parvati."

Kuja bowed his head in obedient acknowledgement and said, "Bless me,

mother."

"May your search be successful, my son!" Bhudevi placed her hand in

loving benediction on his head.

Kuja touched the feet of the earth goddess in respect and set out on his

quest.

Bhudevi's blessing fructified and Kuja found a beautiful maiden, Sakti, to

be his bride. Bhudevi, after obtaining Lord Shiva's consent, celebrated her

son's marriage in the divine presence of Lord Vishnu and Lakshmi, Lord

Shiva and Parvati, Brahma and Saraswati, and Sage Narada.

"Kuja, in accordance with the Trimurti’s command, Viswakarma has

constructed a beautiful abode for your use. Take Sakti, and commence your

married life there," Bhudevi advised her son.

"No, mother," Kuja was unequivocal in his refusal. "I will not leave you."

A tender smile suffused the earth goddess' face. "Son, you can no longer

dwell with me. Your incarnation, and its purpose, was decreed by Lord

Vishnu, the Supreme God. In order for the objective of your birth to be

fulfilled, it is essential that you occupy your designated place in the order of

things." Her firm tones gave place to softly affectionate assurance. "Kuja,

remember that I have no finite boundaries – wherever you are in the vast

universe, you will always be able to glimpse me."

"Yes, mother, I will carry you close to my heart wherever I am!"

He bent reverentially to touch her feet. Bhudevi raised him up and

embraced him warmly. Sakti looked on this touching scene with tear-

dimmed eyes.

Nirvikalpananda concluded his account of Kuja's life and serenely

examined the engrossed faces of his four sishyas.

"Master," Chidananda said in breathless wonder, "the life of each one of the

Navagrahas is chock-full of significant and wonderful events!"

"Yes, my son," the master smilingly acknowledged. "The life of Budha,

which you will hear next, is also replete with wonders and dramatic

developments."

"As I recall, Budha was being raised by his grandfather Sage Atri," said

Sadananda thoughtfully.

"Yes, Budha reached manhood in Atri and Anasuya's care. The sage

decided that the time was ripe for his grandson to live independently and

practice his own spiritual discipline of saadhana. Atri consulted his wife,

Anasuya …"

Nirvikalpananda resumed his enthralling discourse.

The Life of Budha

"A nasuya, come sit beside me." Sage Atri beckoned his wife near and

continued gravely, "Budha is no longer a child who requires our protection

and care. He has imbibed my instruction and become an excellent scholar.

He is now a young man – and well equipped to lead an independent life."

"Swami!" Anasuya exclaimed in dismay. "Does this mean that you are

sending him away from the ashram ?"

"You know that it is inevitable, my dear," said Atri, with a sympathetic look

at Anasuya's grief- stricken face.

"I love Budha more than I ever did my own son." Her eyes filled with hot

tears. "Now, to live without him …"

"Don't fret, my dear," Atri comforted his wife. "You have been blessed with

the good fortune of bearing the Trimurti as your sons. Lord Vishnu and

Paramashiva are yet to take form in your womb." Atri smiled as a ray of

hope dispelled the despair in Anasuya's eyes at this timely reminder of what

remained in store for her.

He continued gently, "Now, dry your eyes and bless our grandson before

sending him to Chandra."

Anasuya bowed in resignation.

"Grandfather, are you sending me away?" Budha demanded indignantly. "I

heard you tell grandmother so!"

Atri smiled fondly at the young man. "Yes, Budha. It is time you emerged

from the cocoon of our protection and took wing on your own. You must

learn to be independent. At present, you are in the position of accepting

help from others. Next, you must elevate yourself to the state of rendering

aid to those in need. It is up to you to earn a good reputation."

He paused. "Go to your father, Chandra, and obtain his permission to

establish yourself independently."

"Your wish is my command, grandfather," Budha replied obediently.

"It is not a command, my dear boy," Atri gently corrected his grandson. "It

is our fond wish and aspiration for you. We are confident that you will

mature into a young man who lives up to the ideals of virtue. You will

garner respect and fame for us through your peerless life and

achievements." Atri continued his wise counsel. "Take a meritorious

woman as your wife and ensure that our lineage flourishes. I lay upon you

the responsibility of propagating the line of Chandravamsa: the gothra of

Aatreya."

There was a rising excitement in Budha's wide eyes. At this, Atri stopped –

his face turned somber and his voice was grave, as he inserted his note of

stern warning. "Budha, you are now a young man. It is time you were aware

of your father's major defect: Chandra reaped much trouble as a result of his

weakness for women. Do not let your father be your inspiration in matters

of the heart. Accept the woman you love as your wife. Make her happy and

find your own happiness in her."

"Yes, grandfather," Budha said.

"Be ready to begin the journey of your new life tomorrow. Go first to

Chandra's palace and then set out in search of your destiny with your

father's approval."

Atri fondly caressed his grandson's obediently bowed head.

Budha touched his father's feet in respect.

"My son!" Chandra's face was wreathed in an affectionate smile. "How you

have grown since I last saw you!" He embraced his son warmly and looked

intently at him. It was like seeing his own younger self reflected in a mirror!

Chandra's eyes glowed with pride at the sight of the handsome youth. His

son had inherited all his beauty!

‘If only Brhaspati could see Budha now …" he thought. 'He would not have

the least doubt as to the boy's paternity!'

‘Aswini! Bharani! Krthika! Rohini!" He called out excitedly to his wives.

"Where are you? My son is here!"

Chandra's wives came running in answer to his enthusiastic summons.

"Look at my handsome son!" Chandra proudly exhibited his child.

Aswini and her younger sisters crowded round Budha in affectionate

admiration.

Budha prostrated himself before the group and said: "I seek the blessing of

my mothers."

"May you always be happy, son!" Aswini's benediction was echoed by her

sisters in a joyous chorus.

"We are indeed fortunate to be the mothers of such a handsome son,"

Aswini added with an affectionate smile.

"Mother, my own good fortune is twenty-seven times yours!" Budha's fond

glance encompassed them all.

Chandra's wives laughed in appreciation of the boy's wit and facility with

words. The father beamed with pride.

"Swami," said Rohini eagerly, "let us make arrangements for Budha's

permanent stay with us."

"Of course," Chandra agreed. "My son has come home to stay." He turned

questioningly to Budha. "What do you say, son?"

Budha shook his head regretfully. "Father, my grandfather sent me here

with the express instruction to obtain your permission to begin an

independent life."

"An independent life?" Rohini was bewildered at this.

Chandra explained: "Yes, Rohini – when a boy attains maturity, he is

granted personal freedom, along with the responsibility of becoming self-

sufficient. He takes on the mantle of independence and strives to achieve

success without leaning on his parents for support."

"Does this mean that you are going to send our son away?" Daksha's

daughters exclaimed in one voice.

Chandra smiled at their aghast faces. "Budha will stay here for a couple of

days, basking in his mothers' loving care." He paused. ‘After which he must

go to the forest, where accommodation awaits him - in accordance with

Brahma's decree."

After enjoying the attention lavished on him by Chandra and his wives,

Budha prepared to set out for the forest.

Chandra advised him: "Take care, my son. Remain faithful to your

grandfather's teaching." He paused to smile fondly at him. "And do not

forget to visit us on every full moon day: your mothers and I eagerly

anticipate your arrival."

Budha looked intently into father's affectionate eyes. "Father …" he

hesitated.

"What is it, my son?" Chandra urged him on.

"I … I … there is one thing I want from you," Budha's eyes pleaded silently

with his father. "Will you grant me a boon?"

Chandra's own eyes melted in affection. He said, "Tell me what you want,

Budha – it will be yours!"

"Father, grant me your permission to visit my mother once."

Budha's request fell on his listener's ears like a bolt from the blue! Chandra

stood motionless as a statue, while Daksha's daughter froze into a tableau of

startled surprise. Budha's words echoed in the women's ears . they also

reverberated in Chandra's heart.

"Budha …" said the stunned Chandra, slowly recovering from the shock of

his son's unexpected request.

"Father, I long to behold my mother with my own eyes … will you grant me

this boon?" Budha's eyes shone with rising hope.

A radiant smile banished the clouds of doubt on Chandra's face. He hugged

his son close, stroking his strong back with fond hands. "Go, my son," there

was an underlying tremor in Chandra's voice. "Go and see your mother –

with my whole-hearted blessings!"

Budha gently extricated himself from his father's clasp and gazed with deep

gratitude into Chandra's eyes. "Father, truly I am blessed!" he said.

Daksha's daughters bid a tearful farewell to Budha as he wordlessly folded

his hands in respect towards them. Their misty eyes followed him with their

unspoken benediction.

Brhaspati listened attentively, as his class of disciples recited their lessons

in droning unison. A sudden movement in the distance caught his attention

and he looked up – it was a young man, silently making his way towards

the hermitage on the grass-covered footpath. Instantaneously, a vivid sense

of déjà vu possessed the deva-guru: time stood still and a startled gasp

escaped his lips.

'Chandra!' his mind screamed the name. His heart raced and anxiety

clouded his eyes. ‘Yes, it is Chandra,' concluded Brhaspati, ‘there can be no

doubt about it! How dare that fraudster show his face here again? Is he

hoping to beguile Taara away once more?'

Brhaspati's indignant thoughts made his blood boil and fury coursed

through his veins. His disciples fell into abrupt silence as their master's face

darkened like storm clouds. Brhaspati glared in silent condemnation at the

intruder. His body shook with suppressed rage as the young man sedately

approached him.

The youth touched his feet in a gesture of respect and straightened up to

introduce himself: "I salute you, master! I am Budha, grandson of Atri and

son of Chandra."

Brhaspati's eyes widened in amazement and the wild beating of his heart

slowly subsided.

Atri's grandson … Chandra's son …' the words fell on his ears with blessed

relief, pouring oil on the troubled waters of his anger.

"Budha," the word involuntarily rose to his lips.

"Yes, master!" Budha bowed obediently. "Honour me with the position of

your disciple and bless me!"

Brihaspati's hand rose in instinctive benediction and he said, "Long may

you live!" Somewhere in the depths of his memory, that other blessing he

had pronounced on Chandra stirred and rose to the surface: ‘May you be

happy!' Brhaspati shook his head to clear his roiling thoughts.

"Master," Budha continued humbly, "I am here to make a request." He

hesitated. "If you will permit me … I wish …" He came to a fumbling halt.

Brhaspati heaved a deep, shuddering sigh of regret. This was the child his

wife had carried in her womb – the baby who was born in this very house.

This was the son who belonged to his wife, but not to him. With a mighty

effort of the will, Brhaspati came back to the present and looked intently at

the youth standing in patient supplication before him. His perceptive gaze

took in the eyes, wise beyond their years, and the boy's humble stance.

"My dear boy, speak your mind," Brhaspati said kindly.

"I beg your leave to see my mother, Taaradevi."

Brhaspati was reduced to speechless amazement. ‘What an incredible

request!' he thought. ‘Here was a son, humbly seeking his permission to

visit his own mother!' A wave of intense emotion convulsed the deva-

guru’s body.

On his part, Budha was astounded at the master's continued silence. This

was Brhaspati – acclaimed preceptor of the gods and reputed powerhouse of

wisdom. This was Vaachaspati – orator par excellence: in fact, a veritable

wizard at debate! And yet, here he was, apparently at a loss for words!

Budha ventured again: "Master, all I ask is a single glance of my mother …

I will leave immediately after that one glimpse." His voice choked with

emotion as he pleaded: "I . I yearn to see my mother."

Budha's impassioned appeal broke down the walls of Brhaspati's defenses

and melted his heart. The deva-guru looked compassionately at the boy's

tear-streaked, hopeful face. A million masterful sentences rose to his lips

but he remained silent: the skilled orator was well aware that the moment

needed no words. Brhaspati smiled benignly at Budha and inclined his

head, gesturing towards the hermitage.

Buhda's face bloomed with joy. Folding his hands in instinctive reverence

and gratitude, he hurried in the direction indicated.

Brhaspati turned sternly to his curious disciples, who quickly resumed their

recitation of the days' lessons.

Budha stood hesitantly on the threshold of the ashram , his anxious eyes

eagerly searching its every nook and corner. The room was empty. He took

a small step forward, only to come to an abrupt halt – the door set in the

opposite wall opened softly and a woman stood outlined by its frame, a

basket of flowers in her arm. It was Taara! She froze in wide-eyed wonder

at the sight of the unexpected visitor.

‘Is it Chandra?' Taara's thoughts were a frantic, chaotic buzz in her head.

‘Has Chandra returned after all these years?' She remained motionless.

Then, slowly, the mists of the past cleared and she realized: ‘No, it is not

Chandra! It is Chandra's replica – the living symbol of his love for me! It is

the child I carried in my womb. It is my precious baby boy: Budha!'

A thrill of pure delight coursed through Taara's body as Budha instinctively

drew near. Some inherent, invisible bond pulled him to her like an

irresistible magnet. An impassioned cry of need rose from the unknown

depths of his being and fell on her receptive ear.

"Mother!"

Taara thrilled to the sound of that sweet word. She had conceived and

carried him in her womb for nine months, endured the pain and fulfillment

of delivery – and it was only now, after the passage of all these years, that

the cherished word ‘Mother,' fell on her rapturous ears for the first time!

The hard block of dark ice, concealed in the depths of Taara's being since

her baby was taken from her, melted at the sound of his affectionate call – it

dissolved into a rush of warm, renewing love which coursed through her

parched body. She trembled in ecstasy at this long dreamed- of reunion. Her

eyes filled with tears of happiness and her breasts swelled with the

nourishing milk of motherhood.

"Son!" She walked to meet him halfway, her eyes never leaving his face.

Taara and Budha fell into each other's outstretched arms and remained

clasped in a close embrace. Time stood still – the intervening years of

separation fell away as if they had never been! Budha was bathed in his

mother's tears of joy, as she covered his beloved face with countless kisses

and fond caresses.

"Mother …" It seemed as though he would never tire of enunciating the

sweet word.

Taara held her son away from her and examined him adoringly from head to

toe. She fiercely brushed away the tears which threatened to form a

divisive, opaque curtain between them. "Son, I carried you in my womb for

nine months … I cradled you in these arms for ten days." Taara held out her

arms in a poignant gesture of loss. "When you were a ten-day old infant,

suckling at my breast with your perfectly-formed, tiny lips . these same

arms gave you away." Her broken sentences conveyed the desolation of her

aching heart.

"Mother …" Budha own eyes dimmed with unshed tears.

"Yes, my son. I gave you away in a flood of tears and that flood continued

unabated for years." She paused and gazed at him with eyes brimming with

love. "Budha, I was sure that I had lost you forever. I was tormented by the

thought that there was absolutely no possibility of our ever meeting: I was

unaware of your identity, and you were ignorant of my whereabouts." A

radiant smile lit up her face. "But … but, now … you have come to me!"

She reached up to tenderly plant a kiss on his forehead. "I have heard you

say the word ‘mother' – with that one magical word, you have transformed

all my past misfortune into the greatest luck!"

"Mother, all these years I have dreamt of meeting you and basking in your

affection and tears of joy. And now that dream has come true." He gazed

adoringly into her eyes. "I am here to receive your priceless blessing."

"My blessings are always with you, my son." Taara stroked his cheeks with

her palms, as if to reassure herself that this was not a dream.

"I am on my way to establish my own household." Budha explained his

plans to her.

"Taara!"

Mother and son turned towards the door at the sudden interruption. It was

Brhaspati.

"Swami!" Taara hurriedly wiped her tear-streaked face with the edge of her

saree.

Brhaspati's voice was gentle. "Let Budha stay to savor the food prepared by

his mother's loving hands."

"Swami!" Taara exclaimed in happy surprise, her eyes conveying their

gratitude to her husband.

"After all, you once carried your son in your sated womb: now it is time for

you to sate his hungry stomach!" Brhaspati's eyes twinkled as he left them

together.

Taara gazed lovingly at her son, her heart too full for words.

Budha picked up the basket which had fallen from his mother's hand and

gathered the flowers which lay scattered on the floor.

Budha made his way to the forest, as decreed by his father, his mind

continuously replaying the joyous scenes of his reunion with his mother at

Brhaspati's ashram . His ears thrilled to the endearments she has showered

on him. At last, he had experienced a mother's love at first hand.

Yes, his grandparents, his father and his twenty-seven wives had, each in

their own way, lavished their care and affection on him: but, there was

something in a mother's love which set it apart from every other emotion in

the world.

Budha smiled to himself as he pondered on this subtle difference. The

unstinting affection bestowed on him by the others was the labored,

deliberate breeze sent his way by the vigorous workings of a palm-leaf fan.

On the other hand, his mother's love was a spontaneous, fragrance-laden

zephyr, which washed over him as naturally as the cool breeze on a balmy

spring day.

Budha recognized that Brhaspati, in all the magnanimous warmth of his

welcome, had not made any reference to his father. Likewise, Taara had not

mentioned Chandra, or enquired about his well-being.

‘Well,' thought Budha, ‘it looks like mother has put the past firmly behind

her.'

Taara had stood speechless at the time of her second parting from her son.

But her beautiful eyes had said it all – they had brimmed with unconditional

love and devotion. As he bent to touch her feet, her tears fell on his head

like an auspicious shower of sacred rice grains. The tender kiss she planted

on his brow whispered a million silent blessings into his ear.

On his part, Brhaspati had placed his right palm in benediction on Budha's

head and said: "Dear Budha, your dream of meeting your mother has come

true." He paused. "Now, go your way in peace and safety. I see in you the

seeds of potential greatness. And, one more thing …" He smiled at the boy.

"You do not need my permission to see your mother – you are welcome to

visit the ashram whenever you wish."

Budha smiled in remembered pleasure at the graciousness of his send-off.

The deva-guru’s kindness lingered with a warm glow in his heart.

A sharp turn in the footpath brought Budha to a small lake. He ceased his

reminiscing as he became increasingly aware of the beauty of his

surroundings. Every breath of the fresh, unspoiled air was an invigorating

tonic to his mind and body. A gentle breeze rippled the crystalline waters of

the pond and caressed the beautiful lotuses which floated serenely on the

surface.

‘Wouldn't it be a treat if the hermitage built for me by Viswakarma was

located in the environs of this serene pond?!' Budha thought.

He surrendered to the irresistible temptation of the cool water and waded

into the pond to slake his thirst. Standing knee-deep in the water, he bent to

scoop it up with his cupped hands. Suddenly, he froze in surprise – the

inverted image of a man in yellow silk attire, holding a lute in his hands,

shimmered amidst the lotus stems. Budha slowly straightened up and

looked round him.

"Narayana! Narayana!" It was Sage Narada, standing on the shore of the

lake.

"My pranam to you, Sage Narada," said Budha, folding his hands in

reverent greeting. He continued politely: "This unexpected encounter with

you is a piece of good fortune."

"You are fortunate indeed, son of Taara!" exclaimed Narada. "Lord Brahma

himself has entrusted me with the task of escorting you to your hermitage

and explaining the duties assigned to you."

"Lord Brahma?!" exclaimed the surprised Budha.

"Narayana! You shouldn't be surprised at Brahma's personal interest in you,

son of Chandra!" Narada smiled at him."Think – who is sage Atri, your

grandfather? Brahma's maanasaputra! And your father, Chandra? A part of

Brahma's essence!" The sage continued: "My father, Brahma, does not

distinguish between his own son and his grandson, Chandra, who is his

incarnation."

Budha raised his hands in salutation towards the heavens and said, "I am

indeed blessed."

"Coming to the point," continued Narada, "the hermitage earmarked for

your use is in the vicinity of this lake. And your present duties are light

indeed – follow your daily ritual of ablutions, prayers and meditation; sate

your hunger with the readily available bounty of edible roots and sweet

fruits; spend your leisure absorbing the beauty of your sylvan

surroundings."

Narada set out towards the hermitage with Budha at his heels.

Budha settled down to the comfortable routine of his days at the hermitage:

the morning ablution, the prescribed prayers, the mind- cleansing

meditation and simple, satisfying meals. The ashram teemed with life: the

warbling of birds thrilled his ears from dawn to dusk; peacocks danced on

the dew-drenched grass; rabbits sported fearlessly within reach and the

gentle deer trustingly sought his companionship.

But Budha's heart often ached with an unfathomable emptiness. There was

a void in his life: an expectant waiting filled his restless soul.

One evening, Budha went on his usual ramble in the forest. Suddenly, the

familiar, serene calm of dusk was rudely shattered by the frenzied barking

of hounds, the thrashing of animals through the undergrowth, the thunder of

horses' hooves and the excited shouts of hunters.

Budha stopped to listen, recalling Sage Narada's words on his first day at

the hermitage. "Budha, this forest adjoins Vaivasvatha's kingdom. Do you

know who he is?" Narada went on to explain. "Vaivasvatha is the eldest son

of Surya and Samjna. His name is derived from Vivasvantha – one of

Surya's many names." He paused. "Vaivasvatha married Sraddha and, with

Surya's approval, is now reigning over the realm bordering this forest."

Narada twinkled at Budha. "It is always good to know one's neighbours!"

Budha smiled at Narada's remembered words. He had no desire to make his

neighbour's acquaintance. All he wanted was for Vaivasvatha's hunters to

refrain from killing the trusting animals who lived in his vicinity, and to

leave the tranquil ambience of his hermitage undisturbed.

He turned away deliberately from the raucous sounds of the hunting party

and made his way back to his hermitage.

A few days later, Budha emerged from his hermitage at dusk. A couple of

rabbits rushed to sport with him, while a dappled fawn nuzzled his legs.

Budha chuckled and bent to caress the animals. Gently pushing aside the

peacocks which were happily entangled with his feet, threatening to trip

him up, Budha set out on his customary evening stroll in the forest.

He stopped at his favourite spot on the shore of the crystalline pond,

admiring the exquisite beauty of the lotus blossoms which seemed to turn

into gold in the reflected light of the setting sun. The drowsy murmur of

sleepy birds was a soothing balm to his senses. He turned to make his way

back to the ashram. He froze as the sound of hunters assaulted his ears: this

time, the loud shouts and excited barks came from the direction of his own

dwelling!

‘I must divert them from the hermitage,' Budha thought. He hurried in the

direction of the hunting party.

Even as Budha rushed towards the hunters, an incredible chain of events

unfolded.

Prince Sudyumna, son of King Vaivasvatha, accompanied by a large

hunting party, gave chase to an elusive antelope. The prince, an avid hunter,

was determined to run down the animal which had narrowly escaped his

last arrow. The panting animal ran for its life, with Sudyumna's sturdy steed

in hot pursuit. The prince, crouched low on his saddle, furiously urged his

mount on, leaving most of his soldiers far behind. Only a few hardened

riders managed to keep pace with the prince's blistering speed.

The hunted animal streaked through the woods. The hunters' steeds foamed

at the mouth at the break-neck pace imposed on them by their riders.

Abruptly, the dense trees and thickets gave way to a clearing. Prince

Sudyumna drew up short at the beautiful garden which suddenly lay before

him. There was no sign of his elusive quarry. Thinking that the antelope had

probably sought cover in some thicket in the garden, the prince, followed

by his remaining escort, approached the flower-lined pathway.

At the very instant at which the hunting party crossed the garden's

boundary, a bizarre transformation took place: in the place of the masculine

company which had crossed the border, there now stood a group of women!

The men's hunting attire and weapons vanished – in their stead, delicate

sarees were draped round the feminine figures. Even the steeds were not

spared: the majestic hunting stallions were now mares!

Prince Sudyumna and his escort jumped down from their mounts and stared

at each other in uncomprehending terror. Their minds could not digest the

dreadful evidence of their eyes. As they stood rooted to the spot by the

horror of their predicament, the spooked mares whinnied in terror and

bolted from the garden. The prince's erstwhile soldiers instinctively ran in

pursuit of the fleeing horses and were soon lost to view in the dense forest.

Prince Sudyumna slowly awakened from his frozen disbelief. He ran his

fingers over his body and recoiled at its distinctively feminine

characteristics. In the distance, he heard the neighing of the mares and the

contours shouts of frantic female voices. Gripped by a surge of panic, he

called out to his soldiers. The sound of his voice compounded his horror:

his masculine tone was now the dulcet treble of a woman!

Completely at a loss as to the cause of this incredible phenomenon,

Sudyumna walked in a trance towards a small lake which mirrored the

cerulean sky in its clear waters. His former majestic, decisive stride was

now the graceful, swaying gait of a maiden. The prince stopped on the

shore and gazed into the water. A beautiful young woman looked back at

him from the surface: his heart raced at the realization that this portrait of

feminine charm was his own reflection.

Sudyumna thoughtfully removed his upper garment and gazed intently at

the image in the water: his flat, iron-hard chest had given way to breasts

which shimmered like two lotus buds on the rippling surface of the lake. He

continued to stare at his reflection, noting every detail of the change - even

the masculine ornaments he had carelessly put on that morning were now

pieces of exquisite feminine jewelry. His transformation into a woman was

complete in every sense of the word!

In instinctive modesty, Sudyumna covered his upper body and gazed

unblinkingly at the beautiful image in the water. A name rose unbidden to

his lips – ‘Ila!'

Ila wandered the narrow forest paths in aimless bewilderment. A fog of

confusion clouded her mind. What were the choices before her? If she

returned to Vaivasvatha's kingdom, not a soul, including her own father and

mother, would recognize her as Prince Sudyumna. More to the point, her

sanity would be called into question – who would believe her incredible

tale? She would undoubtedly be labelled a mad woman! And what would

be her position as a lone woman, bereft of male protection? No, she could

not go back to her father's kingdom: that path was irrevocably barred to her.

But, what other choice did she have? She could not remain alone in the

forest much longer. She thrilled with fear at every rustle in the undergrowth.

She, the intrepid hunter, who had unflinchingly confronted lions as a man,

was now startled when a gentle deer broke through the undergrowth before

her!

Her desolate thoughts were interrupted by the fast-approaching strains of

sweet music. Ila waited with bated breath on the lonely forest track. A man

came into view round the bend, tranquilly playing his lute: it was Sage

Narada. At the unexpected sight that met his eyes, Narada's music broke off

in the middle of a note.

"Narayana!" the sage exclaimed in amazement. "Who are you?" His words

conveyed urgent warning. "It is not safe for a beautiful woman like you to

wander about unaccompanied in the forest!"

Ila looked up at Narada with shy, anxious eyes, but remained speechless.

"Come, speak up!" the sage urged her gently. "I hope you are not dumb …

can you speak? Who are you?"

"My name … my name is Ila," she managed to say.

"Ila … a very apt name for a beautiful woman!" Narada complimented her

with a reassuring smile. "Now, tell me who you are and what you are doing

here." He repeated his warning: "It is unsafe for you to loiter in these dark

woods: unknown dangers lurk everywhere."

Ila was speechless in wonder – this was Sage Narada, who had visited her

father's palace several times and interacted with her as Prince Sudyumna.

Yet, here he was, patently unable to recognize her in this female form.

‘If the divine sage himself is oblivious to my past identity, it is clear that no

one will accept me as the former prince,' Ila thought disconsolately. Then, a

ray of hope broke through her despair: surely the wise sage would find a

solution to her predicament!

"My name is not Ila …" she began hesitantly.

"Narayana!" exclaimed the puzzled sage. "Were you by any chance in a

trance when you pronounced that name a moment ago?" He shook his head

wryly. "Very well, we will let that pass: now, tell me your real name."

Narada smiled encouragingly at her.

"I … I … I am not a woman …"

"Narayana!" Narada threw up his arms in surrender. "I give up!" He looked

her searchingly up and down and continued: "This Narada might be a

confirmed bachelor, but I swear he can recognize a woman when he sees

one!"

"Sage Narada," Ila asked, ‘Are you acquainted with Sudyumna, King

Vaivasvatha's son?"

"Yes, of course." Narada's eyes were curious. "Why? Did he trifle with you

in the name of love?"

"No: remember I told you that I am not a woman. I was transformed into

one only a few minutes before your arrival." Ila confided the details of her

bizarre, sudden metamorphosis to the astonished sage. "I was Sudyumna

before my transformation -"

"Narayana!" the sage interrupted her in wonder. "Is this really you,

Sudyumna?"

"Yes," Ila murmured in forlorn tones. "When I found myself in feminine

form, I instinctively assumed the name, Ila."

"Narayana! Then, Sudyumna … Now, Ila … then, male … now, female!"

He shook his head in disbelief. ‘A young man has metamorphosed into a

young maiden!"

"Maharshi, tell me – why has this misfortune befallen me?" Ila eyes filled

with tears of sorrow.

"Why? Hmm …" Narada pondered a moment. "Narayana!" his face lit up in

sudden comprehension. "Did you, by any chance, enter the Kumaravanam?"

he asked Ila urgently.

"The Kumaravanam?" Ila shook her head in puzzlement. "I don't know

where that is …" She paused. "But, I did enter a garden." Ila elaborated on

the chain of events which led to her transformation.

"Narayana!" said Narada resignedly. "I must tell you that you are fated to

spend the rest of your life on this earth as Ila. This is not just your fate: it is

the ordained fate of all living beings who enter the garden." He proclaimed

gravely. "Every being which enters the garden, whether man or animal,

must live and die as a female!"

The sage proceeded to explain the provenance of the garden:

"Kumaravanam is Lord Parameswara and Goddess Parvati's private garden.

The goddess particularly delighted in the delicious seclusion afforded by

her exclusive bower. Once, the divine couple was enjoying the garden's

beauty, reveling in their moments of intimacy. Oblivious to the goddess's

sensibilities, some renowned sages entered the garden seeking their darshan

. Parvati's embarrassment turned into rage at this boorish invasion of her

privacy. She pronounced a curse on the hapless rishis : any male being who

dared intrude into her beloved Kumaravanam would be instantaneously

transformed into a female. Lord Shiva seconded his consort and their

implacable curse has endured over the ages." Narada looked gravely at Ila.

"Sage Narada!" Ila was aghast at the fact that she had inadvertently

blundered into the Kumaravanam. "Is there no hope of redemption from

Aadisakti's curse?" The light of hope faded from her eyes.

"The immutable will of the mighty Chandika is engraved in stone: there can

be no turning back! One can only humbly accept Aadisakti's mercy or

malediction." Narada continued, "You will remain a woman in the eyes of

the world – and you will be treated as one!" He echoed her own thoughts:

"Beautiful women cannot live in security without male protection. I advise

you to stay away from the capital."

"I have no one to turn to!" Ila's voice reflected her despair. "What awaits me

in the future?" She turned her pleading eyes to the sage. "Be my guide."

Narada closed his eyes for a minute. He then predicted: "Travel eastwards

through the forest. Fortune will favor you with dependable male company.

The mists of uncertainty will clear and your future will take firm shape."

"You want me to follow this path?" Ila gestured uncertainly towards the

east.

"Yes, this is your ordained path right now. Begin your journey confidently."

Narada's eyes were compassionate. "May fortune smile on you!"

Ila set out in the direction suggested by Narada. The depth of her

transformation became increasingly clear to her by the minute: the change

was not just a matter of external appearance, but a complete recasting of her

entire psyche! Frissons of alarm ran through her body at the least rustle of a

bush, or the snap of a branch. Her old passion for the hunt had vanished

without a trace: now, the deer and rabbits which crossed her path evoked a

deep tenderness in her. She fondled them with gentle fingers.

'What a world of difference there is between the sensibilities of a man and a

woman!' she wondered.

The sound of approaching footfalls made her freeze in terror. A young man

stood before her – immobilized in his turn by the unexpected sight of a lone

woman on the forest track.

Her heart raced with a strange excitement as her eyes took in every detail of

the youth. He towered among the bushes like a tree in its prime. He was the

embodiment of masculine beauty. His muscular body glowed with the vigor

of physical well-being. Like iron filings to a magnet, she was irresistibly

drawn to his large eyes. The sensuous lips were parted in the beginnings of

a smile. Her admiring eyes took in the broad chest … his dazzling

complexion … she stopped, suddenly distracted by the insistent flapping of

her upper garment in the wind.

She looked down – the wayward garment had fallen away to expose her

body. An intense flush of embarrassment spread over her face: Ila quickly

shielded her breast with her crossed left hand and groped for the fluttering

edge of her saree with her right. In acute discomfort, she bowed her head in

order to avoid his penetrating gaze.

A vague awareness came to life in her, like a water lily slowly blooming

under the silver light of the moon – she had been absorbed in the young

stranger to the complete exclusion of all else: she had even failed to notice

her own uncovered body. He had cast a spell on her.

She asked herself: Was he that handsome? The answer emerged from the

comely image etched on her downcast eyes – but a truer response came

from her wildly beating heart, which had gathered him into its warm

embrace.

Framed against the sylvan beauty of the woods, the young woman who

stood before him was the epitome of loveliness. Her face was a lotus in full

bloom. Her body glowed like a lissome, golden creeper against the rich

forest green of the thickets. The wide eyes were lamps which shone with a

radiance which equaled the light of the setting sun. He found himself unable

to avert his eyes from her body, even as she grappled with her upper

garment, finally draping it into place with trembling hands. The beauty the

saree now concealed remained fresh in his mind's eye.

Who was this exquisite beauty? From where had she suddenly descended,

to appear on this familiar forest track? The young man vainly attempted to

voice his questions, but remained dumbstruck. In a trance, he moved to one

edge of the narrow path to give her passage and slowly walked forward.

The woman also moved towards him – they crossed each other with

downcast eyes and continued a few paces in opposite directions.

Then, as if impelled by some unknown signal, both of them paused and

turned back simultaneously. They stood facing each other once more. Their

eyes locked in silent yearning. Their lips quivered with unasked questions.

The man broke the silence.

"My name … is … Budha," he continued to gaze deep into her eyes. "You

are …?"

"My name is . Ila," she replied.

"I am the son of Chandra and Taaradevi." His voice gathered strength. "I

live in a hermitage nearby. What about you?"

"I … I … I do not have any family." Instinctively, Ila concealed the history

of her strange circumstances. A cautious voice whispered in her ears: Don't

risk scaring him away with the incredible truth . he may abandon you .

"The sun will set in a few minutes. The forest is fraught with danger." There

was eager invitation in his words. "Why don't you rest tonight at my

hermitage?"

"Yes," Ila agreed impulsively.

Budha set out in the direction of his ashram. Chased by the beauty of her

haunting eyes, all thoughts of the huntsmen vanished from his mind.

At the hermitage, the deer and rabbits accorded Ila their own welcome, with

warm nuzzles and rubs against legs, while Budha lavished his hospitality on

his unexpected guest.

At dawn, the lotus buds on the surface of the water bloomed, as if the pond

was opening its beautiful eyes to the morning sun. Ila, damp from her

earlier swim, sat on the bank of the pond, weaving miniature garlands with

the tiny flowers which carpeted the shore. It seemed that her transformation

had bestowed on her all the inherent flair of a natural- born woman. She

looked up occasionally to feast her eyes on Budha, who had just entered the

pond for his own morning ablution.

Budha soon came to sit beside her. He held out a deep red lotus in offering

to her, gazing intently at her face in mute appeal.

Ila smiled and said softly, "There is an unspoken message stirring in the

depths of your eyes."

"The eyes are windows to the soul, Ila." His searching eyes never left her

face. "It is not only my eyes – my lips also yearn to tell you something."

"So, let them!" Ila broke into teasing laughter.

"Ila, I came here to the hermitage to pursue an independent life. But my

initial joy of liberty was short-lived. A deep void soon engulfed my soul. I

was possessed by an increasingly urgent sense of expectancy – I seemed to

be waiting for the arrival of something, or someone. Each day dawned in

eager anticipation, only to end in disillusionment. The emptiness grew, until

it threatened to consume my very being. And now …" Budha paused.

"And now?" Ila gently urged him on.

"That emptiness has miraculously vanished without a trace!" Budha smiled.

"Has it!?" she exclaimed.

"Do you know the exact moment at which the void loosened its grasp on

my soul?" His impassioned voice supplied the answer: "At the very moment

at which your beauty lit up my eyes!"

Ila looked down bashfully as Budha continued. "From the first instant of

our encounter, a strange excitement coursed through my blood. In all these

years, no other woman has ever evoked such a reaction from me."

Ila raised her head in happy recognition. "But,that is exactly how I felt

when I first set eyes on you!" She blushed and went on: "I have never …

stared at any man like that! No other man has attracted me so powerfully!"

"Really?!" Budha exclaimed in surprised exhilaration.

"I swear on this lotus which you gifted me – it is true," Ila smiled gently at

him.

"The elders of my family sent me here to achieve self-sufficiency and

independence. My grandfather entrusted me with the duty of protecting

others. I want to carry out his charge." Budha paused and gazed intently

into her lovely eyes.

‘And how would you go about that?" A teasing smile played on her lips.

"By extending my protection to you."

"How?" Her eyes twinkled.

"By seeking protection from you!" Budha retorted.

"How?" The word sparkled with mischief.

"By … by making you my wife."

"How?" Her question was now a sensuous whisper against his ear. The

tantalizing smile of her lips was reflected in her eyes.

Budha sought the answer within himself. "Like this!" he whispered in turn

and drew her to him with a gentle pull of his arms which were entwined

round the slender column of her neck. Ila closed her eyes as Budha's

beautiful face hovered over her.

The lotuses in the pond rippled in the caressing breeze, giving their nod of

approval to the tender scene of love unfolding on the shore.

As the golden dusk enveloped the ashram, and the animals quieted in

anticipation of the night, Budha turned to Ila. "My dear, let us live here as

husband and wife," he said gently.

Ila looked up at him with an inscrutable expression. Abruptly, she turned

away and ran into the hermitage. The bewildered Budha stared at her

retreating back in anxious concern and thought: 'Why has she run away

from me? Is she afraid of me? Is the idea of marriage abhorrent to her?

Have I been too hasty?' Before he could follow her to make amends, Ila was

walking back to him. Her radiant face and resolute stride reassured Budha.

Ila came to stand before Budha. The hand she held concealed behind her

back slowly emerged, bearing a garland of fragrant blossoms. She paused

for a moment, her eyes melting in devotion. Then, she reached up to place

the garland round Budha's neck.

"Ila …" Budha murmured in surprise, his voice choked with emotion.

There was a barely perceptible tremor in his hands as he removed the

garland from his own neck and placed it around Ila's. Her eyes brimmed

with tears and a deep sigh escaped her lips. The string of flowers rose and

fell with the passionate heaving of her breast. She bent to gather the end of

the garland and looped it over Budha's head in a sensual gesture of union.

Budha looked down in delight at the single garland which was now a

steadfast chain of affection binding their two bodies together forever. His

eyes were bottomless pools of love as he drew her into his embrace. They

were now husband and wife – one heart and one soul.

The sweet chorus of the ashram birds echoed the auspicious strains of

nuptial music; the animals sported in an eruption of joy and the peacocks

danced in gay abandon, even in the absence of rain clouds.

Budha and Ila, lost to the world in each other's arms, remained oblivious to

the celebration unfolding around them.

"Narayana!" Sage Narada stood before Lord Brahma, elaborating on the

strange chain of events which saw Prince Sudyumna transformed into Ila,

and her subsequent marriage to Budha.

"Well, my son," Brahma smiled knowingly. "You do seem to have played a

pivotal role in these developments!"'

Narada's eyes twinkled as he bowed to his father in wry acknowledgement.

He asked: "Father, what are the implications of this transformation? Does

Sudyumna have to remain in his feminine form for the rest of his life?"

"Who knows what fate has in store for anyone?" Brahma replied with a

tranquil smile.

Saraswati, seated beside Brahma, broke into the exchange between father

and son: "Now, Swami, don't tell me you don't know what has been

ordained!" She gave her consort a teasing smile. "Was it you who set things

in motion to transform a man into a woman and make her Budha's wife?"

"No, Saraswati," Brahma shook his head. "I had no part in this. It was

Parameswara and Parvati who were responsible for the bizarre

transformation of the hapless Sudyumna into Ila."

He turned to his son in approval. "Narada did well to direct the maiden

towards Budha's hermitage."

"Narayana! As for the marriage, this bachelor had nothing to do with that!"

Narada laughed. "Budha and Ila took matters into their own hands there!"

A frown marred Saraswati's brow. "What if Ila returns to her original

form?" she asked.

"Narayana!" Narada was aghast at the thought. "I leave that conundrum to

my father!"

"Let's take things as they come," advised Brahma. "And what is coming

next, is the continued growth and prosperity of the Chandravamsa, with the

children born to Budha and Ila."

Lord Brahma smiled in contentment.

Budha and Ila led an idyllic life in the seclusion of the hermitage, devoted

to each other. In due course, Ila became pregnant. On an auspicious day, she

gave birth to a boy. Budha named his son Purooravas.

It seemed to his fond parents that, in a matter of days, their son had left the

shelter of their laps to crawl all over the hermitage in curious exploration.

He soon graduated to playing games of hide- and-seek, leading his parents

on merry chases. To their delight, Purooravas grew up strong and healthy,

demonstrating his virtuous character.

Purooravas was now five years old. The birds and animals of the hermitage

were his constant companions and playmates. Ila's unbridled joy in the

company of her doting husband and adorable son erased all thoughts of her

past male life. She relished her new life like a juicy, tangy amla fruit.

Ironically, it was her cherished motherhood which was instrumental in

making her forget her own abandoned parents.

Vaivasvatha and his wife, Sraddha, continued to grieve for the loss of their

only son, Sudyumna. The king persisted in his efforts to trace the prince,

dispatching soldiers to all corners of the land and commanding his

numerous spies to focus exclusively on gathering information on his son's

whereabouts. Finally, Vaivasvatha, accompanied by Sraddha, sought the aid

of Sage Vasishta, the revered preceptor of his clan.

"Master," the king bowed in respect to the sage. "You are all-knowing! Five

years ago, Sudyumna and his company of soldiers disappeared without a

trace while on a hunt. All my efforts to find him have been futile." He

sighed deeply. "All I ask is for you to tell us whether our son is alive or

dead. Let the knowledge grant us at least the fortitude of resignation."

The esteemed sage looked at the grief-stricken parents with compassionate

eyes. "Vaivasvatha, the parameters of your fruitless search have been

confined to the gross limits of your physical skills. Let me now harness the

incomparable power of the spirit in our endeavour."

The sage immersed himself in intense transcendental meditation,

concentrating his formidable spiritual strength on envisioning Sudyumna's

fate. His labor was soon rewarded: in his mind's eye, Vasishta clearly

perceived the prince's past and present circumstances.

Awakening from his trance, the sage turned to the anxiously waiting royal

couple. "Vaivasvatha, your son is alive."

"Master!" the king erupted in joy. "Your tidings gladden my heart!"

"Oh, King," Vasishta's gesture urged restraint. "Hear me out first." He

continued somberly. "Your son is no longer the Sudyumna of old. He has

metamorphosed into a woman called Ila and is now living in a hermitage as

a young man's wife." He paused to let the parents digest this incredible

information. "There is more: he is the mother of a little boy."

"Master! Can this be true?!" exclaimed the king.

His wife remained in stunned silence for a moment. Then, her face grew

thoughtful. "Swami," she gently reminded her husband. "Do you recall that

our son was originally born a girl?"

The king brushed aside his reservations and turned resolutely to Vasistha.

"Master," he bowed in supplication. "Bring our son back to us."

The rishi rose to make his departure. "I will set out for the hermitage at

dawn tomorrow."

The bewildered Vaivasvastha murmured to his queen: "Born a girl .

transformed into a boy … now a girl once more!" The king shrugged his

dejected shoulders.

"My dear, I am Vasishta."

With this innocuous introduction to Ila, the sage stood at the threshold of

Budha's hermitage.

At the sight of this familiar figure, Ila attempted to control her wildly racing

heart. She summoned an inviting smile to her lips and managed to say,

"Pranam, Sage. Welcome to our hermitage. My husband is foraging in the

forest …"

She was distracted by her son, who came rushing up in curiosity at the

arrival of a stranger at their door.

"Hmmm …" The sage looked intently at the boy. "Your son's visage reflects

the inherent qualities of a great emperor."

Vasishta seated himself on the grass mat laid out by Ila. He smiled up at her

and asked in apparent innocence, "So, I am a stranger to you, am I?" The

frisson of alarm which ran through her body did not escape his perceptive

eyes.

With lowered head, Ila murmured, "Yes, Maharshi."

"Let me give your memory a gentle nudge," the sage smiled. "Perhaps you

made my acquaintance earlier as Prince Sudyumna?"

"Maharshi!" exclaimed the aghast Ila.

"I am aware of your dual identity. I discovered your present whereabouts

through the power of meditation." He smiled reassuringly at her. "Now, tell

me the details of your transformation."

After her initial alarm subsided, Ila heaved a deep sigh of relief. Sage

Vasishta was privy to the secret which she had concealed for years. There

was nothing to be gained by remaining silent. At long last, she could

unburden her soul to someone. Ila gave the sage her account of the chain of

events which had culminated in the present circumstances of her life as a

wife and mother. She explained that the major factor which motivated her

actions was her conviction that no one would give credence to her bizarre

tale.

Vasishta remained in grave contemplation for a while. Then, coming to a

decision, he said: "It is your duty to resume your former identity and return

to the capital. You must shoulder the responsibilities of the kingdom and

relieve your father, King Vaivasvatha."

Ila shook her head in quick rejection of his proposal. "Master, I am

perfectly content with my present identity and life." Her voice was resolute.

"I will not return to the kingdom."

"This is the voice of selfishness. You are concerned only with your personal

happiness and comfort." Vasishta's piercing eyes bored into her own. "It

behooves you to render service to your parents as their only son.

Your father is old: it is your duty to take over the reins of the kingdom from

him." His words rang out with finality in the small chamber. "You cannot

evade that which has been ordained by fate."

Ila remained silent. She was only too aware of the truth of the sage's words.

"Your parents are bowed down with grief. You owe it to them to end this

separation and make their last years happy."

"Master …"

"You will not have to endure the return to the kingdom as a woman." He

reassured her. "I will use the power of my penance to intercede with

Paramashiva on your behalf. It is my responsibility to ensure that you

regain your former male identity as Prince Sudyumna." He paused in

sympathy. "Of course, you realize that Sudyumna cannot continue to be

Budha's wife."

Ila began to speak, only to fall silent at Budha's arrival.

Vasishta introduced himself to Budha, who prostrated himself before the

sage and touched his feet in reverence. "My hermitage is blessed by your

presence, Maharshi," Budha said. "May I know the reason for this

unexpected honour?"

"My dear Budha, I bring you sad tidings." Vasishta's gaze was

compassionate. "However, it is essential to acquaint you with the facts. Let

me explain …" Vasishta narrated the circumstances of Ila's life to the

astounded Budha.

Wide-eyed and open-mouthed in disbelief, Budha turned questioningly to

his beloved Ila.

"Swami , from the first moment of our meeting, I fell deeply in love with

you." Ila's voice was broken with grief. "I decided right then that I wanted

to spend the rest of my life with you. Fearing that you would reject me, I

concealed the truth from you." She bowed her head in penitence. "Please

forgive me."

Budha moved to stand close beside Ila and placed his arm protectively

around her shoulders. He locked eyes with Vasishta and said, "Maharshi , I

do not care about my wife's previous identity." His voice blazed defiance.

"All I want is my Ila – I refuse to let her go!"

Ila's eyes brimmed with tears at her husband's categorical declaration of

love.

Vasishta heaved a sympathetic sigh, but shook his head in mild disapproval.

"My dear Budha, calm yourself and introspect for a moment." He

continued, "Consider this imaginary scenario: I take your little son,

Purooravas, from you and raise him as my own. The decades pass and your

son becomes a young man. You and your wife are now old. You approach

me and ask for your son's return. If your request was turned down, how

would you feel?" He paused to make his point. "Can you now empathize

with Vaivasvatha and his wife?"

"Maharshi!" Budha exclaimed in consternation.

Vasishta was implacable. "Vaivasvatha and Sraddha are now old. Sudyumna

is his father's sole heir: there is no other legitimate ruler for the kingdom."

He paused for emphasis. "Let me make it clear to you both – if not today, at

some point in the near future, Ila will revert to her previous identity. Her

transformation into Sudyumna is inevitable – it is only a matter of time!"

He turned to Budha. "Once that happens, you will be unable to retain Ila as

your wife."

"Master!" Ila's tremulous whisper was laced with pain.

"Yes, dear." The rishi’s voice was gentle. "Remember, your father is no

ordinary man: he is Surya's son. He will not tamely accept the loss of his

heir." Vasishta addressed Budha directly. "Budha, my words are not meant

to intimidate you in any way. However unpalatable it may be, I have but

laid the bare truth before you."

"Maharshi," Budha's call was a cry of agony from the soul. "Will you take

Ila away from me?"

"Budha, my objective is to restore Sudyumna to his parents: not to separate

you and Ila." He turned to Ila. "My dear, tell me something – who gave you

the name Ila?"

"It was my own instinctive response to my feminine form, master," Ila

replied.

"There is a reason for this," Vasishta said. "You were born a girl. Ila was the

name bestowed on you by your parents."

Budha and Ila gasped and exchanged startled glances.

"Ila was born as Ila … and then transformed into Sudyumna?" Budha

wondered aloud.

"Yes, Budha." Vasishta smiled enigmatically. "It was I who transformed the

baby girl into a male infant. Come, I will tell you the story of Ila's birth."

Budha and Ila seated themselves before the sage, looking up at him in awe-

struck wonder. Vasishta smiled at the child on Ila's lap and beckoned him

close. "Purooravas, my son, come here."

The boy rose obediently and came to sit on the sage's lap. Vasishta stroked

the child's hair with surprisingly gentle fingers and planted a tender kiss on

his plump cheek. He looked above the little head at his listening parents and

commenced his strange tale.

"Vaivasvatha is Surya and Samjna's eldest son. He married Sraddhadevi and

assumed the reins of his kingdom with his father's blessing. The couple

remained childless for many long years. As the preceptor of his clan, I

advised Vaivasvatha to perform a yajna for progeny. Vaivasvatha bowed to

my counsel and set out to conduct a yajna for a male heir.

"However, unknown to her husband, Sraddha instructed the presiding priest

to recite the prescribed mantras to beget a girl child. The yajna was

completed and soon bore fruit: Sraddha became pregnant and, in due

course, delivered a baby girl. The bewildered Vaivasvatha summoned me

and asked how a yajna seeking a boy could culminate in the birth of a girl.

Through my great powers of meditation, I supplied the answer: the yajna

had indeed been conducted with the objective of obtaining a daughter.

"The king sank into despair. His hope of being granted son who would be

his heir, and the guardian of his lineage, was dashed forever.

"Vaivasvatha's consuming grief moved me to pity. Acknowledging the fact

that his vast kingdom was desperately in need of an heir, I appealed to Sri

Mahavishnu. Using the power of my tapas, I changed the baby girl into a

boy. The delighted king named his son Sudyumna."

Budha and Ila listened in speechless amazement to Vasishta's fascinating

tale.

The sage now addressed them with great sympathy. "Do not let emotion

cloud your intellect. As Vaivasvatha's heir, it is inevitable that Sudyumna

will soon ascend his father's throne." He paused and smiled tenderly at the

child in his lap. "In his turn, our little Pooruravas will become king. It is

your duty as parents to ensure that the child comes into his rightful

inheritance." He continued gravely. "The transformation of Sudyumna to Ila

is the consequence of Shiva and Parvati's curse. I will undertake tapas to

propitiate Lord Shiva and restore Ila to her previous identity."

"Maharshi, I understand your position." Budha admitted sorrowfully. "But

it does not change the fact that you are depriving me of the wife who is the

light of my life."

"My dear Budha," comforted Vasishta: "You are Chandra's son. Your birth

was divinely ordained for a reason. I am confident that Lord Shiva, who

made his wife, Parvati, one-half of his own self would never countenance

the separation of a husband and wife."

The sage smiled at them. "Let's leave the future in Lord Shiva's eminently

capable and compassionate hands."

Sage Vasishta left for the capital and acquainted Vaivasvatha and Sraddha

with the prevailing state of affairs.

He assured the king: "It was I who changed your baby girl into a male heir.

Now, I take upon myself the responsibility of again transforming Ila into

Prince Sudyumna."

Vaivasvatha folded his hands in deep gratitude and respect. "Master, I

beseech you to restore my son to me and ensure the smooth succession of

my dynasty. Our bloodline will remain eternally indebted to you."

"It is my bounden duty as your preceptor, Vaivasvatha. I will immediately

commence my tapas: the rest is up to Parameswara's divine magnanimity."

Vasishta set out on his mission with a resolute stride.

Sage Vasishta, the formidable spiritualist, and Brahma's maanasaputra,

soon achieved his objective of obtaining Paramashiva's darshan.

The Lord smiled at him in benediction and asked, "Vasishta, what do you

require from me?"

"Bhagavan, is there anything you are unaware of?! Your curse has

transformed Sudyumna, the only son of Vaivasvatha, into a female."

"Who, as the beautiful Ila, accepted Budha as her husband and gave birth to

a son!" There was a twinkle in Parameswara's dark eyes.

Vasishta continued: "Vaivasvatha and Sraddhadevi are grief-stricken at the

loss of their only child, born after long years of barrenness. Vaivasvatha's

kingdom languishes without an heir." The sage folded his hands in humble

supplication. "Lord, in your mercy, withdraw your curse and bless

Vaivasvatha by restoring his son to his original male form."

"The curse is a combined one: as my part of it is only half, I can revoke

only half of it!" laughed Lord Shiva mischievously.

"Half?!" exclaimed the bewildered sage.

"Yes, Vasishta. I insist that the revocation of the curse be fair to both

Vaivasvatha and Budha – both of whom have equal claims on the victim of

the curse. On one hand, a son and heir is essential, while on the other, a

beloved wife is needed." The Lord paused and then declared: "This is my

word: the bearer of the curse will assume the identity of Sudyumna for one

month and the form of Ila for the following month. This immutable cycle

will prevail for the rest of his life."

"Parameswara!" Sage Vasishta bowed his head in acceptance.

"Sudyumna will rule his kingdom for one month; Ila will serve Budha as

his loving wife for the next month." Paramashiva extended his arm in

benediction. "May good fortune prevail!"

The Lord vanished.

The rising sun painted the water in sparkling hues of gold and red. The

surface of the pond was carpeted with lotuses in full bloom. Budha,

carrying the dripping Purooravas in his arms, finished his bath and made for

the shore. He set his son on the grassy bank and wiped him down with a dry

towel. Purooravas submitted unthinkingly to his father ministrations: his

eyes were fixed on his mother, who continued to swim in the lake.

Purooravas returned Ila's radiant smile and tugged at Budha's hand. The

child pointed to his mother saying, "Father, look – there is a new lotus

blooming between those two lotuses: don't you think it is the most beautiful

flower in the whole pond?"

Budha turned in the direction of his son's pointing hand: his heart melted at

the sight of his wife's exquisitely lovely face, which easily outdid the

sparkling lotuses in beauty.

Ila waved to her two admirers on the shore before diving into the water.

Budha and Purooravas stood with their eyes glued to the spot where they

expected her face to resurface among the blossoms.

There! A smiling face appeared between two lotuses. But … wait . that was

not Ila's face … it was the face of a man!

"Father!" Purooravas' alarmed eyes sought Budha's. "Where is mother?"

The nonplussed Budha could not summon up the words to answer his son.

His chaotic thoughts raced through his mind: 'Who is this man? Where is

Ila?'

The stranger waved merrily at the father and son standing transfixed on the

shore, and made his way to them with firm strokes. Standing in the shallows

before them, the stranger smiled at Budha and Purooravas with easy

familiarity.

Budha glared angrily at the stranger. "Who are you? What have you done to

my wife?" His voice was harsh in accusation.

The man's eyes widened in bewilderment. "Swami … " The man stopped

abruptly, obviously shocked at the harsh sound of his own voice. Slowly, he

bent to survey his body – he froze for a moment in abject terror and then

looked up at Budha with agonized eyes.

Budha's heart turned over: Was this Ila, the love of his life? Had Sage

Vasishta accomplished what he had set out to do? Had his wife been

transformed into this stranger? Budha's heart ached at the sight of his son's

desolate face – was Purooravas now a motherless child?

"Swami!" the stranger turned to Budha beseechingly. "It is I – your Ila.

What you see now is my former male identity."

"Ila …" the word was wrenched from Budha's wounded soul.

"Swami , Sage Vasishta has succeeded in restoring Prince Sudyumna's

identity," there was a world of painful resignation in those sorrowful words.

Budha sank to the ground in despair.

"Father, where is mother?" His son's plaintive cry lacerated his aching heart.

Budha gathered Purooravas into a tight embrace and heaved a racking sigh.

"My son, your mother has left us."

A pall of gloom hung over the hermitage. Budha and Sudyumna sat in

stunned silence on the dais. Budha could not help stealing quick glances at

Sudyumna: the strong, muscular physique, the handsome face sporting a

luxuriant moustache with its connotation of courage and manly pride …

Purooravas, tired and fretting, had finally given up his constant refrain, 'I

want mother.' The child rested on his father's lap – an occasional sob

convulsed his little body. Even the birds and animals of the ashram had

ceased their happy cries, as if aware of the impending tragedy of separation.

"My dear Sudyumna!" Vasishta's exclamation of happy surprise startled the

silent company. The sage descended from his chariot and walked towards

them, a spring in his step.

"Master!" Sudyumna rose and made his obeisance to the sage.

Vasishta looked intently at the young man with the chiseled features of

royalty and beamed in triumph. "May happiness be yours! We meet after

the passage of long years, Prince Sudyumna – thanks to Paramashiva's

magnanimity! Imagine your parents' delight at your reunion with them!"

"Yes, Maharshi," Sudyumna said despondently. "The joy of reunion on one

side … and the sorrow of separation on the other." He gestured to Budha.

"Take a look at that father and son."

Vasishta turned his smiling gaze to Budha and Purooravas. Budha

prostrated himself at the sage's feet, with Purooravas promptly following his

father's example. Sorrow was etched in deep lines on Budha's face.

"Long may you live!" Vasishta laid his hand on the child's head in a gentle

caress. "Purooravas is a credit to his respectable parents!"

"Maharshi …" Budha managed a tremulous greeting. His eyes brimmed

with unshed tears.

"My dear Budha," the sage's voice resonated with warm sympathy. "Dry

your tears and rejoice: your anticipated separation from Ila will be neither

permanent nor continuous."

"Maharshi!" A gleam of hope flickered in Budha's anxious eyes.

"Yes, Budha," smiled the sage. "Did I not assure you that Paramewara

would not countenance the separation of a husband and wife? Of his own

volition, he has kept your welfare in mind and revoked the curse in a

manner benefiting all the concerned parties."

Vasishta paused and looked at the two men in turn. "This is Lord Shiva's

eminently fair decree: Sudyumna will be Prince Sudyumna for one month -

and then take on the identity of Ila for the next month."

"Maharshi, can this be true?!" Budha exclaimed in delight.

"Yes, Budha. Vaivasvatha's child will rule his kingdom for a month as his

father's son, Sudyumna; the following month he will serve you as your

wife, Ila." Vasishta smiled in satisfaction.

"Master, my parents and I are indebted to you for all eternity!" Sudyumna

exclaimed in impassioned gratitude.

"Sudyumna, you are indeed twice-blessed!" Vasishta smiled at the prince.

"You are now the grandson of Surya, and the daughter-in-law of Chandra!"

The sage turned to Budha. "Budha, you too are fortunate: united with your

wife one month and separated from her the next! This cycle of union and

separation will continuously renew your conjugal relationship, keeping it

ever-fresh and tender."

Vasishta paused to look at the little boy clasped in his father's arms. "I have

another suggestion to make, Budha. As befitting Purooravas' position as a

future king, it would do him good to live in the palace instead of at the

hermitage. It is essential that he receive the education appropriate to his

royal status."

Budha blanched and his visage clouded with sorrow. "How can I live

without my son?" he cried out in despair.

"Budha, look at it from this perspective: I'm sure you agree that it is best for

the child to remain in his mother's care. By accepting my counsel, you will

ensure that Purooravas constantly enjoys his mother's affection – whether as

Ila in the hermitage, or as Sudyumna at the palace."

"The Maharshi is right," Sudyumna assured Budha. "I will take Purooravas

with me – I will also arrange for him to visit the hermitage frequently, with

an escort of soldiers."

Budha wordlessly lifted Purooravas into his arms and gazed intently into his

face. "Son, listen carefully to my words." He gestured to Sudyumna. "This

is your mother … she has changed into a prince named Sudyumna for a

month. At the end of the month, the prince will change back into your

mother." He smiled tenderly at his son. "So, tell me now: who is inside

Sudyumna?"

The little boy exclaimed in delight: "Mother! Mother is inside the prince!"

He continued excitedly, "And, after a month, the prince will be inside

mother!"

Budha patted his son approvingly on his shoulder. "So, since Sudyumna and

Mother are one and the same, you should go to the capital with the prince."

The little boy frowned doubtfully. Budha quickly reassured him. "You can

always come to see me here."

"When can I come back home, father?" There was a forlorn note to

Purooravas' query.

"Whenever you wish – all you have to do is let me know and I will arrange

an escort of soldiers to take you to the hermitage." Sudyumna assured the

child, stroking his hair comfortingly.

At that, excitement banished the clouds of doubt from the boy's brow and

he raised his trusting arms to Sudyumna. "Take me to the capital in your

chariot!" He turned to Budha. "Father, I will come back home soon to see

you!"

Budha embraced his son and kissed him tenderly. Sudyumna touched

Budha's feet in respect and then lifted the child into his arms.

"Purooravas, there are two people in the palace who are looking forward

eagerly to playing with you," said Vasishta, a twinkle in his eye.

"Who are they, master?" asked the child eagerly.

"Your grandparents, who love you very much."

The sage turned to the prince. "Come, Sudyumna. The king and queen

await your arrival – their yearning eyes strain to glimpse the dust raised by

our chariot wheels. Let us be on our way!"

‘And that, my dear boys," said Nirvikalpananda to his disciples, "is the

story of Budha's life. What do you think of it?"

"Master, the life story – and your expert narration, are both riveting!"

Vimalanada exclaimed.

"I have a doubt, master …" It was Sadananda.

"What is it, Sadananda?" asked Nirvikalpananda with a benign smile.

"We know that Budha married Iladevi." Sadananda paused. "However,

some accounts of the Navagrahas hold that Jnaani is Budha's wife. Does

this imply that Budha married twice?"

"Good question, Sadananda … but one which evades a definite answer.

Nowhere in the Puranas is it said that Budha married again: nor is there any

disclaimer regarding Ila's position as Budha's wife." He paused

emphatically: "The epics categorically state that Sudyumna, son of

Vaivasvatha, was transformed into a woman, Ila, and this Ila became

Budha's wife. Their marriage laid the foundation for the Chandravamsa

bloodline. Purooravas, their son, is an eminent descendent of Chandra's

lineage."

"But, master, who then is Jnaani?" Sadananda persisted in his query.

"I think we can safely assume that Jnaani is another name for Iladevi." The

guru continued in a thoughtful vein. "Ila created history by being born a

female, changed into a male, again being transformed into a woman and

back once more into a man! In recognition of this, Ila and Jnaani may be

considered to be one and the same individual. Perhaps Ila was bestowed the

name, Jnaani, at the time of Budha's elevation to the pantheon of the

Navagrahas."

The four disciples nodded in agreement. "That is well reasoned, master.

And it also recognizes Ila's unswerving loyalty to Budha," said

Vimalananda in satisfaction.

"Very well … and now we come to the story of the fifth graha – Brhaspati."

Nirvikalpananda took a deep breath. "Let us refresh our memories: Taara

returned to her husband after her elopement with Chandra and resumed her

role as a dutiful wife to Brhaspati. All was now well with their marriage …"

The Life of Guru

B rhaspati, eager to commence his ritual morning worship, looked up at

his wife's approach. "Taara, I have been waiting for quite awhile –

Punjikasthala is yet to return with the flowers for the morning puja." He

frowned. "Is the maid loitering somewhere? Or have you dispatched her on

another errand?"

Taara shook her head and reassured him. "Her only chore was to gather the

flowers, Swami – she will be here soon." She continued: ‘As for me, I am

on my way to the river for my bath. I will return with the water for the

ashram ."

Brhaspati watched his wife depart. He gave a tetchy sniff and rose to pace

up and down, impatiently awaiting the arrival of the tardy maidservant.

Punjikasthala strolled leisurely through the garden, picking flowers and

dropping them into the woven-grass basket in her hand. She reached up to

bend a flower-laden branch – only to freeze in sudden alarm: as shrill laugh

shattered the serene morning calm of the deserted garden. The maid pricked

up her ears in surprise and remained motionless: again, peals of merriment

reached her on a gust of wind. She noted the distinct male and female

timbres in the happy chorus.

Who were these intruders? Why were they in the hermitage garden? And

what was the reason behind their undiluted mirth? Stirred by strong

curiosity, Punjikasthala moved stealthily in the direction of the laughter …

The sounds of glee became increasingly distinct. The woman's laughter was

punctuated by small silences: it trilled out again and again in little bursts of

sensuous delight, as though spasms of pleasure coursed intermittently

through her aroused body. Punjikasthala crouched behind a thicket and

furtively drew aside a branch. As she peered into the bower which lay

before her, a soft gasp of surprise escaped her lips and the basket fell from

her nerveless fingers. Her heart raced in excitement as she stared in

fascination at the amorous scene unfolding under her gaze.

A gandharva couple lay coiled in tight embrace on the soft grass of the

concealed arbor. Their gossamer-fine vestments did nothing to hide the

sheen of their flaming figures, streaked with the juice of betel leaves and

areca nuts. Punjikasthala could not tear her eyes away from the inflamed

bodies, writhing in the erotic throes of uninhibited carnal pleasure. Her

errand long forgotten, the maid surrendered to her prurient interest in the

gandharvas’ lascivious coupling. Her own sexual deprivation made her

doubly receptive to the eroticism on display before her. Time stood still for

Punjikasthala: goosebumps prickled on her arms; the perspiration poured

from her burning skin.

In a sudden flash of thrashing limbs, the gandharva couple vanished from

the bower. But the maid remained rooted to the spot: the sexual exploits of

the lovers played itself in a continuous loop in her febrile imagination. Her

sweat-drenched body shuddered in delicious remembrance.

Coming to her senses, Punjikasthala mechanically picked up the discarded

basket and resumed picking flowers. Her fingers trembled … the erotic

scene continued to haunt her: she could not banish the vivid images from

her heightened senses. She ached with the urgent need for sexual release

and yearned for the sight and touch of a male. Suddenly, the handsome

Brhaspati flashed through her churning mind, and things fell into place: yes,

her master – he whom she served with such devotion – he was the only man

who could give her fulfillment she craved.

Brhaspati would be alone in the ashram – the maid was well aware that this

was the time of Taara's usual, extended visit to the river. Punjikasthala

quickly filled her basket and hurried to the hermitage, her arousal a swarm

of bees buzzing in her head.

Brhaspati stopped his impatient pacing and frowned darkly at the maid.

"Punjika, where have you been?" His voice was harsh in reprimand. "Do

you realize that the time of worship is almost over?"

Punjikasthala, undaunted by his dark frown, came to stand close beside

him.

Brhaspati eyed her sweat-drenched body with distaste and raised his

eyebrows in interrogation. "What is the meaning of this?" He continued in

sudden realization. "Oh, so you have been larking in the river fully dressed?

You silly, irresponsible girl!"

Punjikasthala did not deign to reply. Her eyes, gleaming unnaturally, held

Brhaspati's own indignant gaze. In an abrupt gesture, she emptied the basket

of flowers into the folds of her upper garment. Her hands moved again – the

fragrant blossoms rained gently on the astounded deva- guru. Along with

the flowers, her upper garment also dropped to the ground.

"These flowers have not been gathered for devotion, but for passion."

Punjikasthala gave a husky laugh. "I offer them, not to the god of the

universe, but to the god of love!" She pointedly ignored her exposed

breasts.

"Punjika!" Brhaspati's shout was a cross between horror and fury. "What

insolence! Have you by any chance lost your mind, girl?"

Punjikasthala burst into throaty amusement. "I am not insolent … I am

amorous! My body craves sexual fulfillment in your arms. Make me yours."

Before the aghast Brhaspati could gather his wits, Punjikasthala pulled him

into a close embrace and lifted her face expectantly to his. He felt the heat

of her physical arousal and struggled in vain to free himself from her tight

hold. Her clinging arms were creepers implacably twined round a tree.

"Master, I am yours: take me," she murmured in ecstasy. "Our union will

surpass that of the gandharvas in exhilarating pleasure."

"Punjika!" Brhaspati howled in frustration as he fought to break free from

her iron clasp.

"Master, like the gandharvas , let us pledge ourselves to each other in the

seclusion of the bower."

Brhaspati stared with disbelief into her face as she mumbled meaningless

endearments. In a flash of comprehension, he realized that the girl had

witnessed the coupling of a gandharva couple.

"Master," the demented girl raved on. "My body burns with lust. Only your

passionate embrace can douse the consuming flames. Come," she urged him

on. "Come with me to the sweet, flower-carpeted bower."

Brhaspti's body shook with uncontrollable rage. His fury gave him the

strength to wrench himself out of Punjikasthala's clinging arms. He flung

her roughly to the ground and stood towering over her, his eyes blazing in

anger. The maid picked herself up and, oblivious to his wrath, stared into

his eyes in seductive invitation.

"Punjika!" Brhaspati's voice was a terrifying clap of thunder.

"Let us go to the bower, master," she was blissfully immune to his

tempestuous reaction. "A soft bed of flowers is waiting to receive us …"

"You shameless hussy! How dare you ask me to commit the sin of

adultery?!" Brhaspati roared.

Punjikasthala cackled in unbridled mirth. "Master, how naive you are! Tell

me: how is it a sin for you to bask in the same carnal pleasure which your

wife, Taaradevi, enjoyed with another man?" Her voice took on a pleading

note. "Sacrificing my own personal needs and aspirations, I have dedicated

my life to your comfort. Just as I offered you my services, I now offer you

my body – it is ripe for the plucking. Please … make me yours!"

Some vestige of pride reared its head in the besotted girl as she continued:

"And, let me remind you, master, I am no mere mortal: I am a divine nymph

- one endowed with extraordinary beauty"

The astounded Brhaspati stared into her eyes, which burned with

unquenched lust. Her red lips were parted in erotic invitation. The guru 's

gaze travelled over her body Her exposed breasts rose and fell in rhythm

with her panting desire. Misinterpreting his keen glance, Punjikasthala

eagerly moved closer to him.

"Stop right there!" Brhaspati's angry command reverberated like the roar of

a goaded lion in its den, halting Punjikasthala in her tracks. "You harlot!

You are aflame with abnormal lust: your illicit sexual appetite is sinful and

depraved!" His impassioned voice held deep contempt. "Your lust mimics

the insatiable concupiscence of the simian race." His piercing eyes held hers

in implacable fury. "This is the curse of Brhaspati: you will become a

female monkey!"

Brhaspati's malediction rang in Punjikasthala's ears; a cold apprehension

took root in the depths of her being. 'You will become a female monkey!'

Her body shivered in mind-numbing terror. It was now drenched, not in the

heat of desire, but in the cold sweat of abject dread. The insane delirium

which had possessed her vanished without a trace, leaving in its wake cold

sobriety. She – a heavenly nymph of incredible loveliness - to become a

monkey!

She hurriedly draped her upper garment over her shoulder. Bursting into

tears, Punjikasthala fell prostrate at Brhaspati's feet in wracking remorse.

"Master … be merciful to your poor servant! I was bewitched . the sight of

the gandharvas in flagrant sexual intercourse cast an evil spell on me." Her

body convulsed in sobs. "Deliver me from your curse, master. Forgive me!"

Brhaspati's heart melted at Punjikasthala's pitiable remorse. He looked

down in sympathy at the prostrate figure. "Punjika, stand up, girl," he said

kindly.

She stood and looked at him with pleading, tear-filled eyes.

"Punjika," Brhaspti continued gently, "my curse cannot be revoked…"

"Master!" it was a cry of despair.

"But, let me tell you this: my malediction is actually a boon in another

form." The girl's eyes mirrored her bewilderment.

"Yes, Punjika: my curse is your boon." He explained: ‘As a monkey, you

are destined to marry a male monkey of heroic character. The carnal

pleasure you craved will be an integral part of your conjugal life."

Brhaspati's voice assumed new gravity. "You will beget a son who will

shine as a warrior par excellence. He will achieve total mastery over his

senses and attain immortality." He paused. "There is more: your son will

serve Lord Vishnu's incarnation in the Tretayuga and will come to be

worshipped by all. Your own name will achieve renown and live on through

him."

At Brhaspati's inspiring prophesy, Punjikasthala dried her tears and stood

tall. "Truly, I am blessed, master," she smiled bravely.

"Yes, indeed, Punjika," her master smiled encouragingly at her. "Now, be on

your way."

The maid bent to touch Brhaspati's feet in respect. "Where should I go,

master?" she asked.

"Follow your heart, Punjika: it will show you the path ordained for you. Be

true to the dictates of your inner self. May fortune smile on you!"

Without a backward glance, Punjikasthala resolutely walked out of the

hermitage. Brhaspati stood watching her retreating figure with a poignant

smile on his face.

Taara, back from her trip to the river, looked askance at the scattered

flowers and the signs of her husband's incomplete morning worship.

"Swami!" she exclaimed, "Whose handiwork is this?"

"Those flowers are not offerings of devotion, but the outpouring of

undiluted lust, Taara," Brhaspati explained. "Your maid, Punjikasthala,

showered those flowers on me!"

Taara looked at him in surprised consternation. Her face shone with pity as

Brhaspati narrated the events of the morning to her.

"Oh, poor Punjika!" She turned accusatory eyes on her husband. "You could

have forgiven the misguided girl – surely, she does not merit such harsh

treatment?"

"Taara, an impulsive curse, pronounced in the heat of anger, may be

undeservedly harsh on the transgressor." He paused. "However, in this case,

my curse was invoked only after deep thought and prescience." Brhaspati

smiled benignly at his troubled wife.

"Prescience?" she frowned in incomprehension.

"Yes, it was foresight on my part to turn Punjika into a she-monkey. Think,

Taara: in all these years, Punjika has never looked on me with anything but

respectful devotion. Yet, her erotic voyeurism robbed her of her sanity and

goaded her to seduce me."

He paused thoughtfully. "Sexual desire is a natural passion which springs

from the depths of the heart and body – it is the sublime expression of true

love. What Punjika experienced was far removed from this: it was an

unnaturally incited passion which craved prohibited pleasure. It was the

same desire for uninhibited carnal delight which is inherent in the simian

race." He turned to Taara with a gentle smile. "Now, tell me – was I right in

making Punjika a monkey? In her new form, she can enjoy the bodily

pleasure she desperately craved."

"You know best the tenets of righteousness." Taara smiled back at her

husband. "After all, you are the preceptor of the gods!"

The cool night breeze wafted into the open window of the bed chamber,

laden with the fragrance of flowers. Taara waited for Brhaspati's return

from Indra's court. He was rather late today. Well, she would soon hear the

wheels of Maatali's chariot. Engrossed in her thoughts, Taara trimmed the

sputtering lamp and closed the window shutters. The increased glow

illuminated every corner of the room.

"Taara!"

She turned towards the door – it was Brhaspati. He brought in his wake a

divine fragrance which spread across the chamber to captivate her senses.

Brhaspati remained motionless at the door, gazing at his wife standing

beside the lamp. The flickering flame cast an enticing pattern of light and

shadow on her dappled beauty. Her exquisite loveliness was mirrored in her

flawless face. Beneath the shapely arch of her eyebrows, her eyes outdid the

lamp in its radiance. Her crimson lips were parted in a wordless invitation

which reached out to him in the silence.

Brhaspati's transfixed eyes hungrily drank in Taara's beauty as he walked

slowly towards her. The tantalizing perfume hung about him like a thick

cloud. He stopped before her and held out his hand: an exotic flower

gleamed on his palm like an ornament studded with the precious

navarathnas.

"Indra's queen, Sachidevi, sends this flower as a gift to Brhaspati's queen,

Taaradevi."

Taara did not take the proffered bloom from his hand. Instead, she stooped

over his palm with infinite grace and softly inhaled the exquisite fragrance

of the divine flower. An enigmatic smiled played on her parted lips as she

raised her head to lock eyes with Brhaspati. She deliberately turned her

back on him and stood still.

As if in a trance, Brhaspati moved forward and instinctively pinned the

flower to her braided hair. The blossom radiated light on her lustrous, black

locks like a jeweled ornament. Now, in his turn, Brhaspati bent over the

flower and sniffed its fragrant petals. He placed his hands on Taara's slender

shoulders and gently turned her round to face him. Her eyes met his in

glowing intensity.

"Why is the window closed, Taara?" Brhaspati asked softly.

Taara avoided his gaze.

"Why, Taara?" he insisted on an answer.

"I … I can see him at the window … he is peeping into our room."

"Who? Who is he?" Brhaspati frowned in bewilderment.

"He." After a moment's hesitation, she murmured softly, "Budha's father

…" Her words trailed away into the silence.

"Taara!" Brhaspati exclaimed.

"I cannot bear the sight … it repels me!"

"Taara!" Brhaspati was deeply moved by his wife's open repudiation of her

former lover. He drew her into the warmth of his embrace and looked down

searchingly into her lovely face. "My beloved, my heart rejoices in your

devotion. Any boon you desire will be yours."

Taara's eyes lighted up in surprised delight.

"Tell me, Taara: what is your heart's desire?" Brhaspati's arms tightened

their hold on her.

Taara placed her soft palms on his chest and looked up into his adoring

eyes. "Swami, bless me with a handsome, intelligent son," she whispered

huskily.

‘And do you think that is a boon for you alone?!" Brhaspati gave a soft

chuckle. "That is a blessing to be shared by both of us!"

"Swami …" The lamplight concealed her blushes.

"A son of exemplary intelligence and good looks will be born to you,

Taara." Brhaspati's blessing was accompanied by a shuddering sigh of

delight. Taara nestled her head in the hollow beneath his throat.

A sudden gust of wind extinguished the lamp …

Brhaspati's boon fructified and Taara was soon pregnant.

Taara sat on the raised, earthen platform under the spreading branches of a

tree in the hermitage garden, smiling contentedly. At her side was a bamboo

basket, filled with fruits, edible roots and tender shoots. An expectant

crowd of birds and animals, all in various stages of pregnancy, hovered

before her, waiting eagerly for the tempting bounty.

Brhaspati stopped near the jostling crowd and laughed in pure enjoyment of

the scene. "This is indeed a sight for sore eyes: an assembly of pregnant

ladies!" His eyes twinkled in merriment. ‘And what is the reason for this

solemn gathering, may I know?!"

"Swami , I just cannot comprehend how these creatures got wind of my

pregnancy!" Taara shrugged her shoulders in wry bemusement. "Every

morning and evening, they faithfully arrive at the hermitage to pay me a

visit! So, I have decided to receive them here daily with their favourite

delicacies!"

"Isn't it wonderful?!" Brhaspati exclaimed. "It does seem that they

empathize with your condition and are here to wish you luck."

Taara smiled and offered a ripe berry to a parrot which hovered over her.

"This gathering warms my heart," Brhaspati said.

"It would be even better if the offspring of all the soon-to-be mothers were

gathered here!" Taara laughed at him.

In due course, the hermitage teemed with fledglings, fawns and litters of

rabbits. And, as if to assume the role of playmate to these tiny creatures, a

son was born to Taara. With his fair complexion, wide eyes and shapely

nose, the boy was the epitome of masculine beauty.

"Swami, see how beautiful my son is!" Taara glowed with pride.

"He takes after his beautiful mother," Brhaspati said, "and will grow up to

be a handsome young man."

The deva-guru gently fondled his son's tiny feet, velvety-soft like pink lotus

petals.

The entire company of devas graced the naming ceremony of their

preceptor's son.

Brhaspati turned to Indra: "Mahendra, I have decided to name my son

Kacha."

"So be it, master," Indra inclined his head in agreement. "Needless to say,

your every decision is sure to be founded on firm reason."

Indra and his consort, Sachidevi, showered the infant with rich gifts.

"Master, Kacha will surpass the devas’ sons in handsomeness. He will

thrive under your tutelage. It is my wish that you raise him to become a

well-wisher of the gods and a worthy heir to their esteemed preceptor."

"So be it, Indra." Brhaspati held his arm in benediction over the king of the

devas .

Kacha, nursed on his mother's milk, glowed with health and vigor. The

hermitage echoed with the happy music of his childish laughter. The birds

and animals were his constant companions and playmates.

In due course, Brhaspati, teacher par excellence, commenced his son's

education …

The years rolled by and Taara was once again pregnant.

‘Another handsome son will soon be ours," she remarked complacently to

Brhaspati.

Her husband smiled. "It is Brahma, the Creator, who ordains the particulars

of every birth. We parents are but the instruments of his will."

A tiny seed of doubt took root in Taara's being at her husband's enigmatic

words. Her qualms were justified at the end of nine months. She gave birth

to a son at an auspicious time and day.

However, Taara shuddered at the sight of the infant: the tiny body was

entirely covered with fine hair, while the wrinkled face glowed a fiery red.

She covered her eyes in horror at the sight of the little tail wagging at its

rear end. Taara was engulfed in sorrow. This monkey-child was a

punishment imposed on her by destiny, she thought.

Brhaspati attempted to console his grieving wife. "Taara, this child is but an

expression of the Supreme Lord's will. His simian form is no cause for

lamentation. I assure you, he is extremely good-looking by the standards of

his race." He smiled gently at her. "You are a beauty among women,

dearest, while your son is a beauty among monkeys. It is patently unfair to

impose one race's ideals of beauty on another race."

"Swami …" Taara faltered.

"I see a great future ahead of your son, Taara. He is no ordinary monkey. I

repeat – he is the result of God's divine will." He continued thoughtfully:

"He will not remain under our care for long, but will grow up independently

in the forests. He will be tall and enjoy a very long life."

"Swami , why all these elaborate details now?" Taara interrupted her

husband's prophecy.

"Listen well, my dear," said Brhaspati. "I bestow on him the name, Taara:

this will make your own name eternally renowned. It is ordained that your

son will dedicate his considerable strength and valour to the service of Lord

Vishnu at the time of the Supreme God's incarnation on earth. He will

achieve undying fame." Brhaspati paused solemnly. "Taara, your son, and

the son who is to be born to Punjikasthala in her monkey-form, are ordained

to jointly serve Lord Vishnu in his future incarnation."

"My son is to have the honour of serving the Supreme Lord?!" A smile

replaced the lines of sorrow on Taara's face.

"Yes, my dear." Brhaspati proclaimed: "I shall bestow on our son

formidable strength and stature, combined with sterling mental faculties ."

He paused as his elder son came rushing into the room.

Kacha peered curiously at the newborn infant and looked questioningly at

his mother.

"This is your little brother, Kacha," Taara said. "His name is Taara: just like

mine!"

"Oh, is this my brother?!" Kacha exclaimed in delight. "He is beautiful! Just

look at his cute little face!" He turned eagerly to Taara. "Mother, when can I

play with him?"

Brhaspati smiled at Taara, with an 'I-told-you-so' look in his eyes. "Kacha

instantaneously appreciated the infant's beauty, which escaped even your

motherly eyes. Indeed, beauty does lie in the eye of the beholder!

The little Taara grew in leaps and bounds, his prodigious physical stature

and strength impressing one and all. Soon, the hermitage trees could not

match the demands of his boisterous romps and exercises. The perceptive

Brhaspati noted the increasing signs of restlessness and ennui evident in his

younger son.

The deva-guru spoke to his wife: "Taara, our son finds himself cruelly

stifled within the restricted confines of the hermitage. We must give him the

vast spaces and open horizons required for the development of his

extraordinary body and mind." His eyes rested tenderly on the monkey-

child swinging on the branches of the tree above them. "It is time to let him

enjoy the freedom of the dense forest."

Taara nodded in silent concord. Brhaspati summoned the young Taara and

gave him the option of leaving for the forest. The monkey-child eagerly

accepted the offer and prepared to set out at once.

Brhaspati, Taara and Kacha bade him a fond farewell and looked after him

with misty eyes as he excitedly swung from tree to tree and set out on his

own path. He soon disappeared from their view.

"Mother, when will I grow to be as tall and strong as my brother?" It was

Kacha.

Taara, eyes moist at this sudden separation from her younger son,

wordlessly ruffled Kacha's hair. She heaved a sigh of sorrow and turned

towards the hermitage. The loss of her son, although he was a monkey,

weighed heavily on her heart …

There was a moment's silence as Nirvikalpananda came to the end of his

narrative.

"Master, is that the end of Brhaspati's story?" A vein of disappointment ran

through Vimalananda's voice. "It seems rather brief!"

Nirvikalpananda smiled at his disciple's chagrined expression. ‘At this

juncture, I have restricted my narrative to the extent required for your

straightforward comprehension. It must be noted that the lives of Brhaspati,

preceptor of the gods, and Usana, preceptor of the asuras, are intertwined to

a great extent. Therefore, I will give you further information on Brihaspati

when we come to Usana's story."

There was a mild reprimand in his next words. "Always bear in mind that

each one of the Navagrahas has his own unique history. It is not the length

of the narrative which matters, but the significance and glory of each."

"Your fascinating discourse compels interest, master!" exclaimed

Chidananda.

"That is good to know: a worthy narrative should seamlessly combine

information and appreciative interest." Nirvikalpananda smiled.

"Now, let us examine the life of Sukra, the sixth graha. We are aware that

Usana, the son of Puloma and Bhrgu, was anointed preceptor of the asuras .

Installed at the court of the asura -king, Vrshaparva, Usana was highly

respected – both as the king's mentor and as the the young rakshasas’

teacher." He paused to gather the threads of his narrative. ‘And now we

come to the events of the day which laid the foundation for Usana's

transformation into Sukra …"

OceanofPDF.com

The Life of Sukra

A s he entered the durbar hall, Usana's keen eyes took in the dejected

posture of the asura king on his ornate throne.

"Vrshaparva, why the dark frown upon your brow?" Usana asked. He

continued proudly: "As long as I am your preceptor, there is no need for

anxiety on any score. Surely you know that I, the son of Puloma, can make

the impossible possible, and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat!"

"Gurudev, I would not dream of doubting your exemplary skills!" The

asura king heaved a deep sigh of regret. "However, I confess that I have

grave reservations regarding my own strength!"

Leaning back on his seat of honour, Usana raised his eyebrows

interrogatively at Vrshaparva.

The king bent forward: "I am deeply distressed by the disparity in wealth

between us and our arch rivals, the devas. Just think, master – Kubera, the

lord of wealth himself, is Indra's treasurer!"

"So, it is the deva’s wealth which you covet," Usana remarked thoughtfully.

"That is something which can be easily set right!"

"Gurudev, I am surprised at your confidence: as far as I can see, the only

way to redress this inequity is to declare war on the gods and impound their

wealth – and that is easier said than done!" Vrshaparva gave another sigh of

despair.

"Vrshaparva," Usana said. "Tell me one thing: who is richer – Indra or

Kubera?"

"Kubera, of course! He is the acknowledged master of all the wealth in the

universe!" the asura king declared emphatically.

"Now, let us consider this scenario: what if all Kubera's wealth found its

way into your own treasury?" Usana's eyes gleamed. "Who then would be

richer – Indra or you?"

"Master?!" Vrshaparva gasped in open-mouthed surprise.

"You would obviously be the richer of the two, Vrshaparva." Usana said

matter-of-factly.

A stir of excitement ran through the assembly of asuras. Agog with

curiosity, the rakshasas clustered round their enigmatically smiling

preceptor.

Vrshaparva himself rose to his feet to ask: "Gurudev , do you suggest that

we go to war against Kubera? Surely you can see that it would quickly

exacerbate into a full-scale war against the combined might of the devas ?"

His voice was clouded by doubt.

"Vrshaparva, war is not the solution to every predicament!" Usana gently

chided the king. "A keen intellect can render the sharpest of swords

redundant."

"You are speaking in riddles today, master," Vrshaparva complained

disconsolately.

Usana sat up with a proud gleam in his eyes. "Vrshaparva: my formidable

yogic powers will bestow Kubera's wealth on you!" Usana smiled

complacently at the excited rakshasas , who broke into a chorus of startled

gasps and cries of bewilderment.

"Yes, Vrshaparva: Usana's incomparable mystic powers will be instrumental

in depriving Kubera of his wealth." He elaborated on his nefarious scheme.

"I will harness my extraordinary yogic powers to exert complete control

over Kubera's mind." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Do you know what the

consequence of my 'hostile takeover' will be?Kubera's body will remain his,

but his mind … his mind will be mine!"

Vrshaparva broke into delighted applause. "Gurudev , your scheme is a

surefire winner! As always, I bow to your superior intellect!"

Usana arrived at Alakaapuri, Kubera's capital, to a warm welcome from the

god of wealth. Usana returned the deva’s greeting with companionable

warmth. "Kubera, although I am the preceptor of the rakshasas, I am

always keenly aware that we are all the descendants of Lord Brahma." He

smiled ingratiatingly at the deva. "Your own grandfather, Pulasthya, is

Brahma's maanasaputra: as is my father, Sage Bhrgu."

Kubera was quick to acknowledge their bonds of kinship. "Yes, yes,

Acharya ," he agreed eagerly, "we are all descended from one bloodline."

He paused and bowed to Usana. "Alakaapuri is blessed by your esteemed

presence. Please tell me how I can be of service to you."

Kubera was quick to acknowledge their bonds of kinship. "Yes, yes,

Acharya ," he agreed eagerly, "we are all descended from one bloodline."

He paused and bowed to Usana. "Alakaapuri is blessed by your esteemed

presence. Please tell me how I can be of service to you."

‘An irresistible desire has brought me here, Kubera: I am possessed by the

urge to irrefutably demonstrate that you and I are indeed kindred souls. I

aspire to prove that Usana is Kubera … and Kubera is Usana."

Kubera frowned in incomprehension. "I am totally at sea as to your

meaning …"

Usana was quick to reassure the bewildered deva : "It is very simple,

Kubera – listen to me." Usana's eyes were half-lidded as he sank into a

yogic trance. His voice assumed a hypnotic cadence. "Usana is Kubera …

Kubera is Usana … Usana is Kubera …"

Kubera's breathing stilled as he gazed into the mysterious depths of Usana's

unblinking eyes. The god of wealth was mesmerized and enslaved by the

awesome power of Usana's yogic skills. A strange glow slowly spread

across Kubera's visage and a vacuous smile appeared on his face.

He fawned over Usana and gushed: "Oh, it is indeed true, Acharya ! There

is a strong empathy between us: I can feel the unity of our psyches! We are

one and the same!"

"Yes, Kubera … I am not Usana … I am Kubera himself." Usana's magnetic

voice continued to weave its insidious spell on the god of wealth.

"Acharya," Kubera's own dazed eyes were heavy-lidded. "I have a small

wish to make …"

"Tell me, Kubera." Usana's voice was exultant. He was only too aware that

the hapless Kubera was completely in the thrall of his devious hypnotism.

Kubera was himself only on the exterior plane: he was Usana in his

innermost self!

"It is but a small wish, Acharya ," the bewitched Kubera said plaintively "I

humbly beg you to accept my wealth: the gold, the precious navarathnas,

the priceless sankha bestowed on me by Lord Brahma, the complete

treasure of Padma – in short, my wealth in all its entirety!"

"How can I deny you your 'small' wish, Kubera?" Usana crooned

triumphantly. "So be it!"

Usana extended his right hand, palm upwards, towards Kubera. With his

left hand he offered the deva the sacred kamandalam. Kubera mechanically

performed the ritualistic pouring of water, prescribed in the scriptures,

which enshrined the legitimacy of a donation.

Mission accomplished, Usana rose to make his departure. "Kubera, you are

indeed fortunate," he commended the god of wealth. "Your wish has come

true! I will take leave of you, now."

Kubera, a pathetic smile plastered on his face, urged him: "Acharya, don't

forget to take all my wealth with you."

"Kubera, don't worry: the moment you poured water from your palm into

mine, your wealth reached the safety of my treasury."

He favoured the god of wealth with a sardonic smile and walked to the exit.

As the day drew to a close in Alaakapuri, Usana's hypnotic spell weakened

and melted away into the night. The shocked Kubera realized that he had

fallen prey to the asura-guru’s formidable yogic powers. Usana's devious

plan had robbed him of all his wealth. Kubera, the richest individual in the

universe, was reduced to being a pauper: his fabled treasury was bare!

"Swami!" exhorted the furious Bhadra, Kubera's wife. "You must

immediately declare war on Vrshaparva and his scheming mentor, Usana."

Her voice rose in indignant righteousness. "Usana must be exposed as a

blatant cheat and given the punishment he rightly deserves." She urged her

husband: "You must recover the wealth!"

The chagrined Kubera shook his head. "Bhadra, that is easier said than

done. Usana may be a fraud, but his formidable yogic powers cannot be

bested using either intellectual or physical prowess." He continued

thoughtfully. "His mystic power can only be subdued by a superior spiritual

force."

"Swami," said Bhadra hesitantly. "If you yourself possessed such power,

Usana would not have succeeded in defrauding you."

"Bhadra, in my being resides an extraordinary force which surpasses the

combined yogic powers of the universe in its might!" Kubera's impassioned

voice rang through his abode as he declared: "Paramashiva's grace dwells in

my heart: He is my strength and refuge. I will seek his intercession."

The asuras erupted into boisterous celebration as Kubera's incredible

wealth poured into their treasury.

Vrshaparva, exhilarated by the turn of events, heaped honours on Usana.

"Gurudev , as the god who brought us wealth untold, it is only right that

you assume command of our treasury. You are both our preceptor and

treasurer!"

The rakshasas cheered themselves hoarse in emphatic agreement.

Usana smiled triumphantly. "Vrshaparva, my mother gave birth to me for

the sole purpose of ensuring that the asura clan categorically surpasses the

devas in every aspect. Now, you are richer than Indra – this brings us one

step closer to achieving our objective." Usana's voice brimmed with

confidence. "I will chalk out a strategy by which the war will end with our

asura soldiers inflicting a death blow on the devas.”

Lord Shiva's body convulsed in a paroxysm of rage as Kubera, his devoted

companion, recounted the tale of Usana's perfidy. Shiva's eyes widened in

fury: sparks of anger flew from the awesome Third Eye which flashed on

his darkened brow.

He tossed back his fiery copper tresses and cried: "Kubera!" His shout

echoed through the peaks and ravines of majestic Mount Kailash. "Usana

has committed an unpardonable crime: he has abused the divine mystique

of yogic power. He cannot evade punishment!"

He raised his trishul in a terrifying gesture of challenge and lifted his head

to the skies. "Usana!"

The earth trembled at Lord Shiva's thunderous roar and the waters of the

oceans frothed in agitation. Kubera cowered in awe and raised his arms in

devout worship.

"Where is Usana?" The call reached out to every corner of the cosmos.

Usana entered Vrshaparva's hall at the head of an adulating crowd of

asuras, who showered him with fragrant flowers and sang his praise. He

complacently reached out to accept the golden vessel of wine offered to him

by the rakshasa king – only to freeze in sudden concentration.

The asura-guru raised his hand in an urgent gesture for quiet. In instant

obedience, the raucous asuras fell silent. Usana frowned and strained to

catch a distant echo. His face blanched and abject terror replaced the initial

curiosity in his eyes.

"Usana! Where is Usana?"

The terrible cry, with its threat of impending doom, resounded in his being

with the ominous drum-beat of Lord Shiva's damaruka.

Usana's voice quavered as he addressed the asura king. "Vrshaparva, I am

the object of Lord Shiva's wrath!"

"Gurudev!” Vrshaparva gasped in wide-eyed alarm.

"Kubera is, apparently, a devoted companion of Lord Shiva: the god of

wealth has sought Shiva's aid."

"What do we do now, gurudev?" Vrshaparva, gripped by terror, shuddered.

"Once aroused, Rudra's wrath becomes an unstoppable tide of retribution!"

Usana abruptly came to a decision. "I must propitiate Lord Shiva in

person!"

"Gurudev , think well before …" Vrshaparva began cautiously.

"That is the only way to appease his anger, Vrshaparva," said Usana and

disappeared.

"Where is Usana?"

Usana concealed himself behind the branches of a dense thicket and peered

out cautiously.

Even while standing a safe distance away from the furious Lord, the asura-

guru shuddered at the columns of heat which blasted him.

"Where is Usana?" The thunderous query shook the heavens yet again.

Resigning himself to the impossibility of evading Trinethra’s omniscient

gaze, Usana finally mustered the courage to step forward. He stood

trembling before the Lord – in an instant, the frenzied Rudra plucked him

from the ground and swallowed him in one, incensed gulp.

Usana found himself whirling dizzily within the infinite dimensions of

Maheswara's being. The Maharudra deliberately blocked all the nine

orifices of his body, depriving Usana of any means of escape. Unable to

bear the unspeakable agony of the intense heat which licked at him with

tongues of fire, Usana summoned all the spiritual prowess at his command

and launched himself into a passionate paean of praise to Lord Shiva.

The asura-guru’s heart-felt plea for mercy moved Lord Shiva and, in

instinctive response to Usana's devout repentance, Lord Shiva ejected him

through the opening of his phallus. The shaken Usana stood cowering

before Lord Shiva, who glared at him in withering contempt and unabated

fury.

Fortunately for Usana, Goddess Parvati came to stand beside her spouse

and said: "Swami, let your anger be appeased." Her dulcet tone was balm to

Shiva's smoldering rage. "Usana has emerged from your genitals: this

makes him my son. And so, you will agree that he is now your son too!"

She placated her Lord gently. "Be merciful to him and let him live."

Lord Shiva gradually calmed down. He smiled tenderly at Parvati. "My

dearest, I will fulfill your desire. As you have accepted him as your son, I

will grant him manifold power."

He paused and turned to Usana. "Your passage to renewed life was through

the track of my sukram – henceforth you will be known as Sukra."

Parvati smiled in benign satisfaction.

Usana prostrated himself before Shiva: "Lord, I am indeed blessed!"

"Sukra," the Lord reprimanded him. "You erred grievously in your lust for

wealth. Kubera is ordained to be the master of wealth: it was patently

wrong of you to plunder his treasury. Your ill-gotten booty will be returned

to Kubera." He paused and his voice lost its harshness. "However, you did

not rob Kubera for your personal gain – your selflessness on that score

pleases me."

The Lord raised his hand in benediction over the bowed head of the asura-

guru. "Sukra, I grant you a boon: those who seek wealth through your

intercession will be granted their wish. You will be given the necessary

wealth required for the distribution of largesse to your votaries."

Sukra gazed at Lord Shiva in adoration. "Bhagavan, well do I know that

your anger is always tempered with compassion. That is why I did not

hesitate to throw myself on your mercy." He turned to Goddess Parvati. "I

am indeed blessed to have the Divine Mother of the universe as my own

beloved mother!"

"Long may you live, Sukra!" Parvati smiled at him in serene benediction.

"Son, you are fortunate indeed!" Sage Bhrgu exclaimed in astonished

delight. "You were blessed to dwell in Lord Shiva's abdomen and to emerge

as his son – yet, you have retained the body we gave you at birth!" He

continued solemnly. "It is your bounden duty to ensure that the name Sukra,

bestowed on you by Lord Shiva, resounds with glory eternally."

"Goddess Parvati herself gave you your new life!" Puloma's heart was full

as she looked at her beloved son. "May you always enjoy the grace and

mercy of Lord Shiva and Parvati!"

"Mother," said the excited Vrshaparva, who had accompanied Sukra to

Bhrgu's hermitage. "We share your happiness at our preceptor's good

fortune." But the shadow of grief dimmed the smile on the asura king's

face. "Unfortunately, we have lost the vast wealth our gurudev obtained for

us from Kubera!"

"Vrshaparva," Sage Bhrgu chided, "the wealth of wisdom, which my son

embodies, far surpasses the material wealth which you so fleetingly

possessed. As long as Sukra is with you, you own riches beyond

comparison."

"Maharshi, your words give me comfort and courage," Vrshaparva said

dutifully.

However, the asuras king's cruel disappointment at the loss of Kubera's

wealth was far from assuaged. He lamented to Sukra: "Gurudev, the wealth

which was so tantalizingly ours, has disappeared!" He sighed in regret.

"Our spies report that the devas are celebrating our loss: they revel in their

perceived sense of material and spiritual superiority." His brow darkened in

anger. "Their arrogance is hard to stomach!"

"Vrshaparva," Sukra said thoughtfully. "When the enemy is basking in

smug self-confidence - that is the right time to strike a decisive blow against

them!"

"Master, are you suggesting that we declare war on the devas ?"

"Yes," Sukra asserted. "Complacency leads to carelessness: Indra and his

cohort are wallowing in their arrogant conviction that they are superior to

the asuras in physical and yogic strength. We will exploit this pride as the

fatal chink in their armour. Prepare our army – I will determine an

auspicious time to launch our offensive."

The asura-guru rose to his full majestic height. His stentorian voice

galvanized the attentive king. "Vrshaparva – have faith in the incomparable

power of my wisdom. Gather your forces and prepare to march on Swarga

Bowing to Sukra's counsel, Vrshaprava went on the offensive and attacked

Swarga . To his horror, his army was decimated and scores of rakshasas

lost their lives. The asura army retreated from the battlefield to lick its

wounds. The chagrined Sukra was aware that Vrshaparva held him to blame

for the fiasco: particularly as the so-called 'auspicious' time fixed by Sukra

had in no way worked to their advantage!

"If our soldiers continue to drop like flies, it will be next to impossible to

defeat the devas and take over their kingdom," lamented the asura king.

A sudden flash of inspiration made Sukra consider Vrshaparva thoughtfully.

His brow wrinkled in deep cogitation. "What if our soldiers did not die in

this war?" Sukra's question hung in the air.

Vrshaparva stared at his preceptor in patent bewilderment.

"Think, oh king of the asuras!" Sukra goaded him on. "What if our soldiers

could evade death on the battlefield?"

"That is beyond the realm of possibility, gurudev!" Vrshaparva humored his

guru .

"I have told you, Vrshaparva: Sukra can make the impossible possible!"

"Gurudev !" the asura king gasped in astonishment at Sukra's blatant

conviction.

"Just think, Vrshaparva: what if every asura soldier killed by the devas

came back to life time and again?!"

"The dead coming back to life?!" The wide-eyed Vrshaparva was

astounded. "How could such a miracle happen?" He shook his head. "Who

can bestow life on the dead?"

"Mrtasanjeevani can restore the dead to life," declared Sukra triumphantly.

"And I will master the science of the Mrtasanjeevani!" He was resolute. "I

will propitiate Lord Shiva with my tapas and ask him to grant me the boon

of the Mrtasanjeevani."

"Gurudev!” there was the faint stirring of hope in Vrshaparva's cry.

"I will obtain my parents' permission to commence my penance tomorrow

itself," Sukra announced his decision.

"Gurudev! We asuras are blessed to live under the protection of your iron

resolve and mental strength." Vrshaparva wondered aloud: "Mrtasanjeevani

. dead rakshasa soldiers brought back to life … " He burst into an excited

rhapsody of joy: "If you pull this off, gurudev, the goddess of victory will

be permanently enshrined in our homes!"

"Vrshaparva: a word of warning," Sukra said gravely. "On no account must

you resume your war against the devas until I return with the

Mrtasanjeevani." He paused for emphasis. "Once I am master of the

Mrtasanjeevani, the war the asuras’ wage against the devas will be the war

to end all wars!"

"Your wish is my command, gurudev . I assure you that we will go to war

against the devas – that too at an auspicious time of your own choosing -

only after you return armed with the mighty Mrtasanjeevani!"

Vrshaparva warmly clasped Sukra's hands in his own.

With his parents' blessings, Sukra set out for the forest to commence his

tapas . On their part, the asuras , under Vrshaparva, performed the

prescribed the rites to ensure the success of their preceptor's phenomenal

mission.

At this juncture, Sage Narada happened to visit the rakshasa court. The

sage commiserated with Vrshaparva on his recent defeat at the hands of the

devas. To Narada's surprise, the asura king was cheerfully indifferent to

past setbacks. In the course of the ensuing conversation, the sage cleverly

ferreted out the news of Sukra's determination to master the Mrtasanjeevani.

Highly alarmed by the implications of Sukra's quest, Narada rushed to

Swarga with his tidings of impending danger.

Indra blanched at the urgent warning carried by Sage Narada and turned

beseechingly towards Brhaspati.

The deva-guru’s eyes mirrored his own anxiety. "Mahendra, Sukra poses a

grave threat to the devas," he said somberly.

"Master, if he commands the Mrtasanjeevani, it will spell doom for us: the

devas will face certain defeat and death!" Indra was aghast at the

unfortunate turn of events.

"There is no time to be lost! Do what is necessary to disrupt Sukra's

penance," urged Brhaspati.

"I will dispatch the divine nymphs to shatter his concentration," said Indra

eagerly. "Entrapped in the coils of romance, he will throw his quest for the

Mrtasanjeevani to the winds!"

"Indra, it is you who must guard against throwing caution to the winds!"

Brhaspati gently reprimanded the king of the devas. "Think well before you

choose a plan of action."

"Gurudev …" faltered Indra.

"An impetuous solution will prove counter-productive. Anyone can come

forward with hasty schemes without considering their full implications."

Brhaspati smiled sardonically at the bewildered Indra: "The idea of sending

nymphs to seduce Sukra from the path of penance is worthy of the soldier

standing guard at your door – surely Brhaspati and Mahendra can do better

than that!"

"I am always ready to bow to your superior wisdom, gurudev!" Indra

inclined his head in respect.

"What happens if we send the divine nymphs?" Brhaspati asked. "Let us

assume that their irresistible charm and captivating beauty exerts its spell

over Sukra and his penance is disrupted …"

"But, master, isn't that exactly what we aim to do?!" Indra frowned in

puzzlement.

"Yes, Indra: but this tactic would only gain us temporary respite – it would

not prevent Sukra from resuming his tapas!" He paused meaningfully.

"What we need is a permanent solution."

"What do you suggest, master?"

"Let us send your daughter, Jayanthi, to Sukra."

"Gurudev!" Indra was aghast at this proposal.

"Listen to me, Indra – this would solve many of our problems at one go."

Brhaspati elaborated on his argument. "Jayanthi is an exquisitely beautiful

girl. If Sukra succumbs to her charms and accepts her as his wife, what will

happen?"

"What will happen?" Indra was at a loss. "Enlighten me, master," he said.

"Sukra will be your son-in-law – and, of course, a son-in-law will obviously

be obliged to support his father-in-law!"

"What a deliciously devious plan, gurudev ! Our foe will become our

natural ally!" Indra was rapturous. But, there was a niggling doubt in his

mind. "Master, what if Sukra does not agree to marry Jayanthi?"

"Then we lose nothing: Jayanthi will merely have accomplished the task

you intended to assign to the nymphs!" Brihaspati smiled confidently.

"Mahendra, I assure you that Sukra will marry Jayanthi. And, once they are

abandoned by Sukra, the asuras will be orphans, to all intents and

purposes!"

"I will send Jayanthi to Sukra at once!" There was a palpable excitement in

Indra's words.

"On no account must Sukra, the rakshasas’ evil genius, complete his

penance!"

Her father's urgent words echoed in Jayanthi's ears. "Your mission to disrupt

his tapas is crucial to the very survival of the deva clan: you must succeed

at any cost!"

Jayanthi stood at a distance, transfixed by the beauty of the youth seated in

meditation under the spreading branches of a tree. Her lips parted in an

involuntary smile of admiration.

'It is obvious that my father has never set eyes on Sukra,' she thought, 'he

would never think to use the adjective 'evil' to describe such a handsome

man!'

She drank in his beauty: A comely face, enhanced by a glowing complexion

… broad chest … rounded shoulders … long hands. She was irresistibly

drawn to the magnetism of the wide eyes, half-hidden by the heavy eyelids,

and emphatically framed by the arch of thick eyebrows above.

'Even the heavens cannot boast of such handsomeness!' she thought. Then,

she shook her head to clear her mind and recalled Indra's grave exhortation:

"My dear, keep this in mind – if that wicked man succeeds in obtaining the

Mrtasanjeevani, we will all be in dire peril." Her father had continued

emphatically: "Exploit your beauty and charm to seduce him. I give you

complete freedom to exercise your ingenuity: either make him your

husband or ensure that he becomes a depraved voluptuary. Use your

discretion – just do whatever is necessary to disrupt his tapas – Sukra must

not obtain the Mrtasanjeevani!"

‘Seduce him … make him your husband … ensure that he becomes a

depraved voluptuary . Sukra must not obtain the Mrtasanjeevani …'

Indra's injunctions grated harshly on her ears and Jayanthi impatiently

banished them from her mind. Her feet instinctively made their way

towards Sukra. Her eyes hungrily roved over him like caressing hands. He

radiated youthful vigor. His single-minded concentration mirrored his iron

resolve. Drops of perspiration, like tiny dew-drenched blossoms, covered

his body.

Jayanthi heaved a shuddering sigh and surrendered to the spell of Sukra's

magnetism. ‘Well,' she thought, with a defiant shrug of her shoulder, 'my

father has given me 'complete freedom' in this situation.'

Jayanthi made her choice: she decided to accept Sukra as her husband.

However, she would not be instrumental in disrupting his penance. On the

contrary, she would do everything in her power to ensure that he mastered

the Mrtasanjeevani. What a coup that would be for her would- be spouse!

Having resolved on her course of action, Indra's daughter dismissed all

thoughts of her father, and his commands, from her mind. She bent tenderly

over Sukra, holding up the edge of her saree to gently fan his perspiring

body. But Jayanthi abruptly realized her error: the fluttering of her garment

was definitely a seductive distraction! It was service that Sukra required

from her – not sensuous temptation!

She quickly dropped her saree and looked searchingly about the place: the

swaying fronds of a banana tree caught her attention. She eagerly ran to

pick two long leaves and hurried back to her station. She held one wide

frond over Sukra's head, as a shield from the heat of the glaring sun, while

the other leaf became an improvised fan with which she sent a cool breeze

his way.

Sukra remained serenely immersed in his tapas, oblivious to the devoted

ministrations which eased his path.

Every morning, Jayanthi swept clean the ground round the meditating

youth; she then sprinkled the bare earth with water from a nearby mountain

stream and made it her canvas for the auspicious designs which she drew

using pollen gathered painstakingly from multi-hued flowers. Collecting

pure water in a cup fashioned from a lotus leaf, Jayanthi dipped the edge of

her saree in it and sponged Sukra's body. She faithfully gathered a pile of

fresh fruits and edible roots, in the slim hope that he would remember to

take some nourishment for his body. At nightfall, she slept on the bare

ground before him, pillowing her head in her hands.

The days passed: Sukra remained immersed in his penance, while Jayanthi

continued to lavish her devoted service on him. They were united in their

single-mindedness of purpose: Sukra's sole objective was his tapas;

Jayanthi's only goal was unswerving devotion to Sukra.

"Swami!" Sachidevi's call to her husband reflected her anxiety. "Do you

realize that it is quite a long while since Jayanthi left on her mission?"

"Devi,” Indra replied with a wry smile, "I can give you the exact duration

of our daughter's absence – right down to the last minute!"

"I am worried about Jayanthi …"

Indra gently interrupted his wife. "Jayanthi will be back, my dear." He

paused and frowned. "I was confident when I sent her to disrupt Sukra's

penance in the place of the apsaras. However, I must confess that this

inordinate delay worries me too." Indra consoled Sachidevi. "I have

summoned Acharya Brhaspati. He will discern the reason for the delay with

his yogic power."

"Mahendra!" Brhaspati entered Indra's private chamber.

"Pranam, gurudev!" Indra respectfully rose to his feet and welcomed his

preceptor.

Without preamble, the worried king of the devas rushed into the reason for

his summons. "Master, time flies by, but Jayanthi is yet to return. Sachi is

anxious about her. I would like to know whether our daughter has

accomplished her mission or …" his voice faltered, "has she met with some

unknown danger?"

Brhaspati seated himself and smiled comfortingly at the parents. "Rest

assured that Jayanthi will return – whether victorious or vanquished! Defeat

is the only danger she faces." He continued reasonably. ‘As we all know,

Sukra is no ordinary ascetic: he is possessed of such power that he emerged

alive from Lord Shiva's stomach! Breaking such a renowned mystic's

concentration is no easy task: it requires time and patience."

Sachidevi fretfully shrugged aside this explanation. "All this is irrelevant to

me, gurudev … I am extremely anxious about my little daughter." She gave

her husband a rather accusatory glance. "This task should have been

assigned to the nymphs – not to Jayanthi!"

"Indrani," Brhaspati placated the distraught mother, "have courage. Let us

not underestimate Jayanthi's ingenuity and pluck."

He turned to the king of the devas . "Mahendra, let us put aside the matter

of Sukra and Jayanthi for a while and direct our attention to the asuras –

without Sukra to bolster their confidence with his guidance, they are as

vulnerable as they will ever be! This is the right time to mount an attack on

the rakshasas ."

Indra nodded thoughtfully in agreement.

"The asura army is demoralized and weak at present: I will determine the

auspicious day and time to declare war!" Brhaspati was categorical in his

stand.

A worried Vrshaparva mulled over Sukra's continued absence, with his

ministers adding their voices of concern to his anxiety.

Their somber deliberation was interrupted by the abrupt arrival of a

breathless asura spy who saluted the king hastily before bursting out with

his momentous report: "Oh king, the gods are making preparations to

declare war on us. They only await Brhaspati's decision as to the auspicious

time in which to launch their attack!"

Vrshaparva's court erupted into a chaos of excited voices and loud

arguments.

One of the agitated ministers shouted: "Yet another example of those

ruthless devas’ guile! The accursed Indra is deliberately taking advantage of

our gurudev’s absence!"

Another minister inserted a note of caution: "Let us not forget that our

gurudev emphatically warned us not to wage war against the gods in his

absence ."

The spy broke in with his warning: "My lord, we need not wage war on

them – they will attack us in any case!"

Vrshaparva called for order. An expectant hush enveloped the hall as the

asuras turned to their king for his decision. "Our master advised us not to

wage war on the gods." He paused meaningfully. "However, he did not give

us any standing instructions regarding self-defence – he did not counsel us

to refrain from retaliation in the face of an unprovoked attack."

His voice rose in exhortation to his cohorts. "Self-defence is a must for

survival! Let us show these gods what we are made of! Make preparations

for war!"

The asura forces met the attacking deva army head-on and halted their

advance. A colossal battle ensued. True to Sukra's dire prediction, the devas

set on the hapless rakshasas and subjected them to wholesale slaughter. The

asura 's woeful lack of combat strategy, in the absence of their preceptor,

was pitifully evident. Vrshaparva was caught on the horns of a painful

dilemma: to stand firm was to court certain defeat … to retreat was to invite

pursuit and complete rout. In either case, destruction and death stared him

in the face!

In a last resort to save his army from complete annihilation, the rakshasa

king rushed to Sage Bhrgu's hermitage. Vrshaparva explained the dire

predicament of the asura forces in their son, Sukra's, absence. Lamenting

that his soldiers were dying like flies, the king beseeched Bhrgu and

Puloma to come to their aid. Arriving on the battlefield with Bhrgu's

permission, Puloma used the awesome power of her chastity to immobilize

the deva army. The exultant rakshasas then fell upon the helpless gods and

slaughtered them with impunity.

Indra was enraged by the massacre of the devas in their frozen trances. On

Brhaspati's advice, the king of the gods rushed to Lord Vishnu and pleaded

for his intercession. Sri Mahavishnu appeared instantaneously on the field

of battle. Vishnu immediately perceived that the devas would remain locked

in their trance-like state until Puloma was neutralized – and the only way to

nullify her formidable power was to kill her. Left with no other alternative,

Lord Vishnu let fly his discus, Sudarsana , and severed Puloma's head. At

the instant of her death, the gods regained their mobility and resumed their

battle with the asuras.

Vrshaparva rushed to Bhrgu's hermitage with the tragic news of Puloma's

death at Lord Vishnu's hands. The enraged sage stormed to the war field. He

tenderly joined his wife's severed head to her trunk. Drawing upon the

powers accumulated through years of rigorous penance, Bhrgu restored

Puloma to life. Puloma touched her husband's feet reverentially and stood

before him, whole.

Sage Bhrgu now turned to the astounded Vishnu and burst out in fury: "You

beheaded my wife without paying her the respect due to her sex: you have

committed the unpardonable sin of killing a woman!" The sage's voice

crescendoed: "I will not let you evade justice! This is my curse: you will be

born on earth as a mortal and will endure the agony of pain, separation and

grief!"

Bhrgu's curse banished the devas’ euphoria regarding their upper hand in

the ongoing battle with the asuras. Indra quickly realized the impossibility

of their winning the war and wisely sounded the retreat.

Vrshaparva prostrated himself at the feet of Puloma and Bhrgu and

expressed his deep gratitude to them for the asuras’ deliverance.

"Indra will not dare to attack the asuras in the near future!" Puloma

counselled the rakshasa king. "Use this intervening time to strengthen your

army and await our son's return with the Mrtasanjeevani."

Jayanthi awoke with a start: had someone disturbed her sleep? She turned

on her side and looked at Sukra – he remained immersed in his penance,

oblivious to hunger and thirst as usual. She wondered how long his tapas

would continue: however long it was, she was determined to persevere in

her devoted service.

As the first flush of dawn streaked the sky, heralding the sunrise, Jayanthi

rose. Again, her gaze was drawn irresistibly towards Sukra. In her adoring

eyes, the radiance emanating from his penance surpassed the sun's

brilliance.

Jayanthi made her way to the gurgling mountain stream. She smiled in

pleasure at the thought of the familiar, daily routine which stretched before

her: sprinkling water on the ground round Sukra, drawing the auspicious

patterns with flower pollen, shading him from the glaring sun, fanning him

with banana fronds … Jayanthi contentedly entered the cool water for her

bath.

Suddenly, a distinctive sound broke the silence of the tranquil forest – it

was the drum-beat of Lord Shiva's damaruka. Sukra's inert body

instinctively throbbed in rhythm with its mesmerizing cadence and his long-

unmoving eyelids fluttered.

The insistent beat of the damaruka faded into divine silence …

"Sukra!" The resonant call penetrated his psyche like a drum-roll of

thunder. Sukra emerged from the depths of his penance and opened his

eyes.

"Sukra, my son!" The voice brimmed with affection.

Lord Shiva stood before Sukra's delighted eyes. The asura-guru prostrated

himself before the Lord whose face was wreathed in a radiant smile.

"Sukra, I am here in response to your penance," Lord Shiva declared. "Tell

me what you desire."

Sukra stood before the Lord with hands folded in reverence. "Bhagavan!”

Eyes overflowing with tears of joy, he gazed adoringly at his favourite god.

"Grant me the gift of the Mrtasanjeevani."

"So be it, Sukra!" Shiva smiled magnanimously and beckoned him close.

"Come: I will impart to you the Mrtasanjeevani mantra.”

Sukra obediently approached Shiva – hands folded in respect, he closed his

eyes in devotion and inclined his right ear towards the Lord. A tidal wave of

immense mystic power poured into Sukra's being, as an awesome silence

enveloped his heart and soul with a fullness of extraordinary significance.

"My son," Shiva said, "the divine Mrtasanjeevani is now yours to

command. I charge you – ensure that its secret remains undisclosed to

womankind." The Lord raised his hand in magnanimous benediction and

said, "May you prosper!" before he disappeared.

Sukra stood frozen in awe, overwhelmed with gratitude towards Lord Shiva

for his unstinting munificence.

Emerging from his trance, Sukra looked about him in amazement. He took

in the well-tended ground, decorated with glowing designs executed with

the pollen of multi-hued blossoms. He frowned in puzzlement. Whose

handiwork was this? The smoothened earth was obviously the result of long

months of labor. Had someone been serving him during his tapas ? His

curiosity was aroused – who was this mysterious person and what could be

the reason for this evident devotion?

As if in answer to his question, the dulcet tinkling of anklets reached his

ears. Sukra turned in the direction of the sound. A narrow footpath lay

before him – someone had beaten a rough track through the wild brush with

their constant passage to-and-fro in that direction. The sweet music of the

anklets grew louder and then came to an abrupt halt!

Sukra gazed in startled surprise at the figure which stood before him – it

was a beautiful maiden! Her dripping clothes indicated that she was

returning from a bath in the nearby stream. Her damp body glowed like

flame behind a curtain of snow. The green creeper twisted about the tree

beside her lost its sheen, and looked desiccated, beside the glowing

freshness of her exquisitely lovely, lissome body. Dark hair rippled down to

her knees in lustrous waves, from whose ends sparkling dewdrops of water

dripped to the ground. Her elongated eyes seemed to reach to her ears in

soft caress, their dark irises darting to and fro like startled fish. Those wide,

fearless eyes held Sukra's own in an outpouring of desire and devotion. She

held a lotus-leaf cup in her hands.

Sukra was mesmerized by this lovely apparition and irresistibly drawn to

her. Her incomparable beauty bound him with invisible, unbreakable

chains. ‘This is no ordinary beauty,' he thought, ‘there is a divinity in her

charm! Who can she be?'

The jingle of her anklets was the only answer to his unspoken question as

she walked towards him with the graceful glide of a swan, her voluptuous

hips swaying to the even rhythm of her gait. The anklets grew silent and she

stood before Sukra. A sudden flush spread over her damask cheeks and she

lowered her gaze in self-conscious embarrassment. Abruptly, she stooped

and gently poured the water from her lotus-leaf cup over his feet: in a

poignant gesture of reverence, she dipped the slender fingers of her right

hand into the water which had bathed his feet and sprinkled it over her own

head. She slowly rose to her feet and met his eyes.

"Who are you?" the astounded Sukra asked.

Her full lips, glistening with the deep-red of ripe ivy gourds, parted to

reveal sparkling-white teeth shaped like fleshy pomegranate seeds.

"Jayanthi …" her voice was a whisper.

Sukra raised his eyebrows in interrogation.

"Indra is my father," she revealed, "and Sachidevi is my mother."

Sukra's mouth fell open at her words. "Indra's daughter!" he gasped.

"Yes," she asserted. "My father sent me to disrupt your penance … but,

from the very moment of our first encounter, my heart and body melted and

merged into one entity of immeasurable love for you. I have dedicated

myself, heart and soul, to your service for all eternity." She gazed adoringly

at him.

"With or without my conscious volition, I have been the recipient of your

devoted care – this makes me indebted to you. What boon do you want

from me, Jayanthi?" There was an underlying note of triumph in Sukra's

words. After all, the daughter of Indra himself was offering her services to

him! It was a coup indeed for the rakshasas !

"I have openly declared my love for you," replied Jayanthi. She gazed into

his eyes. ‘Accept me as your devoted wife."

Sukra looked at her in silence. His thoughts were in a whirl as he worked

out the possibilities and choices before him. He was Puloma's son – he was

the preceptor of the asuras ! He lived by his own rules and principles. It

was impossible for him to accept Jayanthi as his wife: nor was it possible

for him to deny her the boon he had promised.

'No!' he thought to himself, 'I will not go back on my word!'

Sukra, past-master at stratagem, and determined contender against all odds,

had fashioned certain guiding principles to help him through trying,

unavoidable circumstances – his 'Sukra Neethi,' or Sukra's moral code of

conduct. He now cleverly resorted to this unique code to resolve his present

dilemma: he would accept Jayanthi as his companion – not as his wife!

Sukra smiled at Jayanthi and said, "I cannot accept you as my wife .

however, I am willing to make you my companion. I assure you that this

position is, for all practical purposes, in no way inferior to that of a lawfully

wedded wife."

"Swami …" Jayanthi said hesitantly.

"If you accept my proposal," Sukra continued persuasively, "we will live

together happily as husband and wife for ten years. During this decade, we

will live a private life which will be completely invisible to both devas and

rakshasas." Sukra locked eyes with Jayanthi. "Are you willing to be my

companion?" he asked.

Jayanthi's own eyes melted in adoration. "It was my deep love for you

which made me serve you and pray for the fulfillment of your penance."

She sighed and continued. "I was confident that you would accept me as

your wife. But, now …" She remained silent for a moment. Then, Jayanthi

lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders in resolve. ‘As I am

completely enamored with you, I cannot turn down your offer." She blushed

and held out her hands to him. "Please … take me!"

Sukra smiled triumphantly. He nodded to Jayanthi and opened his arms

wide in invitation. Like a vigorous river running to meet the ocean for the

first time, Jayanthi rushed into Sukra's arms and encircled his neck with her

clinging hands. Her wet clothes fanned the flames of passion in Sukra's hot

body. He drew her even closer into his tight embrace.

In the next instant, Sukra and Jayanthi merged into one single entity and

were lost to the view of all eyes.

"Mahendra!" Brhaspati emerged from his mystic trance to address the king

of the devas. "Your daughter, Jayanthi, has apparently succeeded in her

mission! I saw her merge into Sukra's embrace before they both

disappeared. For ten long years, as they pursue their conjugal life, they will

remain invisible to everyone. Using my mind's eye, this is the only glimpse

I could catch of her."

"Gurudev, does this mean that Sukra's penance was disrupted?" Indra asked

eagerly.

"I think we can safely assume that, Mahendra," Brhaspati nodded

thoughtfully. "If Jayanthi had not succeeded in her mission to seduce him,

obviously Sukra would not have accepted her." He smiled complacently. "I

think we can afford to relax now."

"Gurudev, what does this portend for my daughter's future?" Sachidevi

asked anxiously.

"It is certain that Sukra has accepted your daughter: I saw them disappear

together with my own eyes." He reassured the mother. "Sukra is an ethical

intellectual: he will undoubtedly ensure your daughter's happiness as his

consort."

Brihaspati paused to reflect. "Sukra is well aware that the asuras would on

no account be able to digest the news of their preceptor's marriage to the

daughter of their arch enemy, Indra. As far as I can surmise, this is the

reason for Sukra's decade-long voluntary disappearance. He hopes to delude

the asuras into believing that he continues to perform his penance to obtain

the Mrtasanjeevani."

Brhaspati's logical explanation placated Indra. The king of the devas turned

to his wife with a confident smile. "Sachi, my dear, don't worry: your clever

daughter will bring Sukra to you as your son-in-law!"

Sachi, her fears dispelled, smiled back at her husband and made her

departure. Indra turned to address Brhaspati, but held his tongue on seeing

the deva-guru deep in a reverie.

After a few moments of profound thought, Brhaspati said: "Mahendra,

Sukra and Jayanthi will remain invisible for a period of ten years. Think of

the implications!" His excitement was palpable. "For one, long decade, the

rakshasas will languish without their preceptor's guidance. They will be

particularly vulnerable during this period. We must exploit this situation to

our advantage." Brhaspati gave Indra a meaningful look.

"Shall we declare war on them again, gurudev ?" Indra asked eagerly.

Brhaspati smiled wryly. "Mahendra, it has already been categorically

proved that we cannot defeat the asuras, even in Sukra's absence. Sri

Mahavishnu will be unable to help us as long as Sage Bhrgu and Puloma

are ready to extend their aid to the rakshasas ."

"You are right … I forgot the existing circumstances in the heat of

excitement."

"It is not a battle of weapons which we will wage against the mentor- less

asuras ." Brhaspati's voice exuded confidence. "It will be a battle of wits!

"What does that mean, gurudev?" the bewildered Indra frowned.

"We are aware that Sukra has been indoctrinating the asuras with his creed

of hatred towards the devas . The time is now ripe to counteract his

teachings," Brhaspati said complacently.

"And how do you suggest we go about that, gurudev ?" Indra asked.

"During Sukra's absence, we shall ensure that the asuras receive a new

course of instruction!" Brhaspati chuckled softly. "We shall inculcate in

them the belief that the devas excel the asuras in all aspects: morally,

intellectually and physically. We will make them accept that it is only right

to acknowledge the inherent superiority of the gods and resign themselves

to respecting and serving them. We will convince them that it is

unconscionable to even consider waging war on the gods." Brhaspati's eyes

gleamed in anticipation. "We will indoctrinate them systematically . they

will be conditioned to accept their subservience. We will instill in them

mandatory loyalty towards us!"

"Your idea is incredible, gurudev. ” Indra paused doubtfully. "But will they

submit to our persuasion?"

"Mahendra, it will not be Brhaspati or Indra who educates them – their

instructor will be none other than Sukra himself."

"Sukra?!" Indra gasped in open-mouthed surprise.

"Yes, Indra, Sukra himself." Brhaspati's eyes twinkled. "Brhaspati, as Sukra

himself - I will be his double!"

"You will be Sukra?!" Indra remained clueless.

"It is pure sorcery, Indra: look!" To Indra's astonishment, Brhaspati

vanished from the room. In his place Sukra reclined on the couch.

The startled king of the gods jumped up and stared at his companion in awe.

"This is my plan, Mahendra," Brhaspati explained. "I intend to join

Vrshaparva's court by impersonating Sukra. In the coming decade of

Sukra's absence, I will indoctrinate the asuras and convert them into willing

servants of the gods." Brhaspati's tones echoed confidently in the chamber.

"Gurudev, your plan is magnificent!" Indra exclaimed. "But, what if

Vrshaparva, trusting in your mastery of the Mrtasanjeevani, compels you to

devise an offensive against the devas ?" Indra frowned as he voiced his

doubt.

Brhaspati, in Sukra's guise, laughed out loud. "Simple, Mahendra – I will

assure the asura king that I have received the mantra from Lord Shiva. I

will also tell him that, in order to achieve complete mastery over the

mantra, and make it truly effective, I need many years of practice in its

deployment." He smiled. "Of course, I will impress upon the rakshasas that

this is Lord Shiva's immutable will!"

He turned briskly to Indra. "Mahendra, leave everything to me. Rest assured

that, in the near future, the asuras will be your loyal servants and their

preceptor will be your obedient son-in- law!"

"I salute your unparalleled intellect, gurudev!" Indra paused in sudden

consternation and exclaimed: "But, what about your voice?!"

"I will first visit my parents and bring them up to date on the developments

regarding the Mrtasanjeevani. After receiving their blessings, I will proceed

to Vrshaparva's court." Brhaspati's voice was now a perfect imitation of

Sukra's authoritarian tone.

Indra guffawed in admiration.

The unsuspecting Vrshaparva welcomed the imposter with open arms. The

entire company of asuras rose and bowed to the false Sukra.

"Sukra!" "Sukra!" "Sukra!" The exultant cry echoed through the halls and

corridors of the rakshasa court.

The asura king gave the imposter the highest seat of honour in the durbar

and reverentially washed his feet. Each of the asuras present came forward

in turn to dip their hands into the bowl containing the used water and

sprinkled it over their own heads.

"Gurudev!” exclaimed the joyous Vrshaparva. "You have returned

triumphantly from your penance. We are indeed fortunate: death has lost its

hold over the asura clan!"

The court erupted in raucous celebration.

The imposter rose to his feet and signaled for silence. "Yes, Lord

Paramashiva has lavished his blessings on your guru." He smiled

triumphantly. "He has bestowed on me the Mrtasanjeevani mantra !"

Wild cheers and applause greeted his words.

He waited for silence to be restored and continued: "However, Paramashiva

has also given me clear strictures on its use." He paused to look gravely at

his attentive audience. "Unless the mantra is first practiced the prescribed

number of times, it will lose its efficacy: I will be unable to restore the dead

to life."

A murmur of alarm ran through the assembly.

The false Sukra continued: "Lord Shiva himself has ordained that the

mantra must be practiced uninterruptedly for ten years before it is put to

use: only then will it be purified and prove effective."

Gasps of surprise, mingled with cries of disappointment, greeted his words.

"Ten years!" Vrshaparva was aghast. "Gurudev, this means we cannot fight

the gods for a decade!"

"Do not be disappointed, Vrshaparva," the imposter placated the asura king.

"Patience has its own reward. When we do fight the devas , I will be able to

keep death away from our people."

"But … Ten years! … Gurudev . to wait for ten years!"

"Vrshaparva, ten years is not too long: it will pass in the blink of an eye!"

The false Sukra smiled enigmatically. ‘And, I assure you, we will put that

decade to good use: I have a special course of instruction planned for our

clan."

As the imposter assured Vrshaparva, the ten years did pass: not in a flash,

but at their own plodding pace.

Meanwhile, the real Sukra had enjoyed the pleasure of Jayanthi's

companionship to the full and was ready to return to his old life. Jayanthi,

torn apart by the anguish of her separation from her beloved Sukra, wept

like a child. Sukra comforted her as best he could and gently sent her on her

way to Amaravati, Indra's capital.

Sukra then made his own way to Vrshaparva's court.

The durbar hall was filled to capacity with rakshasas. The false Sukra was

ensconced in his customary place of honour on the dais.

"Gurudev,” Vrshaparva respectfully drew his preceptor's attention to the

passage of the years. "Our decade of waiting is over at last. Are you now

ready to deploy the power of the Mrtasanjeevani in our defense?"

Before the imposter could respond, a sudden commotion at the entrance

caught the court's attention – Sukra strode into the hall, kamandalam in

hand. The assembly of asuras froze in amazement at the unbelievable

apparition. There was pin-drop silence in the court.

Sukra stood before Vrshaparva, glaring at the imposter.

The asura king, in his turn, turned to address the false Sukra seated beside

him. "Gurudev, who is this interloper?"

"Vrshaparva!" thundered the real Sukra. "Do you not recognize me, your

own preceptor?"

"He appears to be an imposter, Vrshaparva," the false Sukra gravely replied.

"Imposter?! Me?!" exclaimed Sukra. "Whoever you are, be assured that I

see through your disguise. I will soon deduce the nefarious motive behind

your impersonation!"

The furious Vrshaparva intervened and shouted: "You – shut your insolent

mouth! How dare you cast doubts on our revered gurudev ! Do you know

that he has obtained the priceless boon of the Mrtasanjeevani from Lord

Shiva himself? Stop your nonsensical blathering at once: your tricks will

not work here!"

"What?!" gasped Sukra. "This imposter claims to have mastered the

Mrtasanjeevani?! Do not fall for his lies, Vrshaparva! Whoever he is, he is

misleading the asura clan for his own sinister purpose. Hear me: I am

Sukra, the son of Sage Bhrgu and Puloma."

Vrshaparva had had enough of this. "Soldiers!" the irate asura king

commanded. "Throw this imposter out of the court and exile him from our

kingdom." He turned to Sukra. "As you are in the guise of our gurudev , I

will spare your lowly life – this is but a mark of the great respect in which

we hold our master."

The imposter seated beside him nodded in head in benign appreciation of

Vrshaparva's orders.

Four rakshasa soldiers approached Sukra threateningly.

"Stop right there!" roared Sukra. "It was I who mentored you – it was for

your benefit that I underwent the rigour of tapas and obtained the

Mrtasanjeevani. And now, you dare to insult me and question my

credentials." His voice rose ominously. "This is my curse on the asura clan:

you will lose wars for all eternity!"

Sukra's furious voice reverberated through the hall as he stomped out of the

court.

"The decade has passed," Brhaspati was back in Amaravati to meet Indra.

"Sukra has returned!"

"Jayanthi has also returned, gurudev!" Indra interrupted him excitedly.

"However, Sukra has obtained the Mrtasanjeevani!" His face was

crestfallen. "My daughter fell under the spell of his personality: she made

him her lover but failed to disrupt his penance."

"Mahendra, Sukra made his appearance at Vrshaparva's court. Fortunately,

the asuras continued to believe that I was their true preceptor. Vrshaparva

accused Sukra of being an imposter and banished him from the kingdom."

He continued thoughtfully. "However, once Vrshaparva calls upon me to

implement the Mrtasanjeevani, I will be exposed as the real imposter."

"You will be in grave danger, master! What do we do now?" asked the

alarmed Indra.

"Mahendra, I have already done what needs to be done." Brhaspati smiled

complacently. Indra looked questioningly at his preceptor.

"I have discarded the guise of Sukra for good," laughed Brhaspati. "I will

not enter the asura kingdom again!"

As the glaring absence of their supposed preceptor extended into days,

Vrshaparva suspected that something was wrong. Gradually it dawned on

the asura king that he had been the victim of a hoax: the imposter had

mentored them to look up to the devas! The rakshasas were deeply

ashamed of their gullibility: they had been fooled by the imposter for ten

long years and had readily swallowed the pro-deva propaganda he had

dispensed in the name of education! They broke into cries of self-

recrimination for their foolish rejection of their real guru .

Vrshaparva cringed at the recollection of his harsh treatment of Sukra. He

called an urgent council and decided to lead a delegation to beg Sukra's

forgiveness and plead for his return.

On their arrival at Sage Bhrgu's hermitage, the incensed Sukra harshly

reprimanded Vrshaparva and his entourage of eminent asuras . However,

Bhrgu and Puloma interceded and pacified their son.

Puloma reminded Sukra: "Son, these are tricks played by the gods. It is the

devas at whom you should direct your anger. Remember, they instigated Sri

Mahavishnu himself to behead me."

"Gurudev, we beg your forgiveness for our sins of ignorance," Vrshaparva

pleaded in abject repentance. "We are sorely in need of your guidance, as

we plan our vengeance on the gods who were the cause of your mother's

beheading." The asura king humbly bowed before Sukra. "Master, please

accept your position as our preceptor once more and revoke your curse."

The placated Sukra nodded in assent.

Nirvikalpananda paused and smiled at his entranced disciples. "And that is

the story of Sukra. How was it? Did you enjoy listening to it?"

"Oh yes, master!" exclaimed Shivananda. "It was non-stop excitement from

start to finish!"

"Master!" Sadananda chimed in agreement. "What fascinating twists and

turns – it was absolutely enthralling!"

"There is more to come," Nirvikalpananda assured them. "Sukra's life is

filled with extraordinary developments and thrilling events: undoubtedly,

you will continue to be fascinated by the coming segments!"

"Master, Sukra sends Jayanthi away at the end of their ten years of

companionship – whom does he marry?" asked the curious Chidananda.

"Sukra married a young woman, Urjaswathi, the daughter of Priyavratha

and Suroopa. By her, Sukra had two daughters, Devayaani and Araja, and

four sons. Once his sons attained the appropriate ages, Sukra appointed

them the officiating priests of the rakshasa clan."

He paused to survey his attentive disciples. "Sukra's daughter, Araja,

demonstrated a philosophical bent of mind right from childhood. Once she

attained womanhood, in accordance with her inclination, her parents

granted her permission to engage in penance in the nearby forest. This

forest belonged to the realm of King Danda, son of Ikshwaaku.

"One day, King Danda, while on a hunting expedition, happened to come

across Araja, engaged in solitary meditation. Unable to resist the allure of

her beauty, the wicked king fell on the young girl and molested her. The

outraged Araja cried out to her father. Hearing his daughter's distressed call

for help, Sukra rushed to the spot and heard the account of her tragic

defilement.

"Incensed by Danda's crime, Sukra pronounced a horrible curse: within five

days, a rain of fire would completely destroy Danda's kingdom, which

would later be transformed into a dense forest. Sukra's curse came to pass:

an incessant shower of flame rained down on Danda's realm – the

conflagration reduced the kingdom to ashes. In the course of time, a dense

forest rose from the ruins and was given the name Dhandakaaranya –

derived from ‘Danda.'"

"So, it was Sukra who was instrumental in the rise of the Dhandaka forest!"

exclaimed Sadananda.

"Yes," said the master, "Sukra was a formidable personality who could

bestow boons, and pronounce curses, to great effect. I will now tell you how

he put the Mrtasanjeevani mantra to use."

Nirvikalpananda picked up the threads of his narrative once more.

"Sukra burnt with the desire to avenge his mother's beheading by Lord

Vishnu, at the goading of the devas. Confident in the power of the

Mrtasanjeevani, he constantly incited the asuras to wage war on the gods.

Sukra immediately restored to life the asuras who perished in battle. The

asura army was now, for all intents and purposes, invincible. The gleeful

rakshasas, immune to death, attacked the gods without provocation: war

had become a sport to them.

"The devas were alarmed at the state of affairs. Indra and Brhaspati

contemplated their next move… "

"Gurudev,” Indra's voice was grave. "At this rate, we cannot hold out much

longer against the demons – we are helpless in the face of their triumph

over death."

"The Mrtasanjeevani is the cause of our sorry plight," Brhaspati sighed.

"Our numbers are steadily declining."

Indra echoed his preceptor's sigh. "You are right, gurudev . Please show us

a way out of this predicament. How can we counteract the Mrtasanjeevani?"

"Mahendra, it is impossible to counteract the effects of the Mrtasanjeevani,"

Brhaspati emphasized. "It is a blessing from Lord Shiva himself: there is no

antidote for it!"

"Then we have no choice but to surrender the kingdom of Swarga to the

rakshasas and go into voluntary exile in the dense forests!" Indra lamented

in despair.

"Every disease has its remedy: likewise, every problem has a solution."

Brhaspati reprimanded him gently. "It is up to us to use the power of our

intellects to find one."

"I implore you, find a way out of this peril!"

Brhaspati said thoughtfully. "There is only one way out: we must acquire

the Mrtasanjeevani mantra for ourselves."

‘Acquire the Mrtasanjeevani?!" Indra was wide-eyed in wonder. "That

would make any future war a sword for a sword and a mace for a mace!"

"Exactly: a stalemate! Wonderful thought!" Brhaspati smiled in agreement.

"Sukra obtained the Mrtasanjeevani from Lord Shiva through rigorous

penance." Indra said excitedly. "Now, you will emulate Sukra and achieve

mastery over the mantra ! Am I right, gurudev ?" Indra asked hopefully.

"Not so fast, Indra! One can undertake penance – but no one can predict

Lord Shiva's reaction to it." Brhaspati sighed. "From Lord Shiva's point of

view, Brhaspati is certainly not Sukra!" He paused to explain: "Mahendra,

we must remember that the divine couple on Mount Kailash consider Sukra

to be their own son."

"Gurudev, it is up to you to ensure that our ‘wonderful thought' materializes

into a wonderful solution." There was a note of challenge in Indra's words.

"At present, there are only two masters of the Mrtasanjeevani: Lord Shiva

himself – and Sukra." Brhaspati locked eyes with Indra. "In my estimation,

it would be easier to obtain the secret of the mantra from Sukra." The deva-

guru silenced Indra's incipient question with an abrupt gesture and

continued: "You are going to ask me how I expect Sukra to pass on the

secret of the Mrtasanjeevani to us, the asuras’ sworn enemies. Remember,

Mahendra, a true guru is constrained to pass on all his knowledge to an

intelligent disciple who serves him with unswerving devotion." Brhaspati

paused meaningfully. "Whatever else Sukra may be, he is an exemplary

guru in the truest sense of the word …"

"Then, someone should approach Sukra as his disciple …" Indra felt a

rising sense of hope.

"Not just 'someone,' Mahendra." Brhaspati cautioned. "This task requires a

young man of sterling virtue: someone who is obedient, devout, smart,

dedicated and exceptionally intelligent."

"I know just the person who meets your criteria, gurudev!" Indra smiled in

pleasure.

"Really?!" exclaimed Brhaspati. ‘And who is this young deva?"

Indra shook his head. "Not one of us, master: he is none other than your

own son, Kacha!"

"Kacha?"

"Yes, gurudev,” Indra asserted categorically. "Kacha is the only one

qualified to obtain the Mrtasanjeevani by serving Sukra."

"I would be only too glad if my son could be of assistance in these

circumstances. He would be stepping in to discharge a duty which is his

father's by right." Brhaspati continued thoughtfully: "Kacha is a devoted

disciple, irrespective of the guru he serves."

The deva-guru came to a decision and smiled at Indra. "If my son succeeds

in this mission, I shall share his credit! I will indeed be a proud father. I will

send Kacha to Sukra tomorrow itself."

"I am blessed, gurudev. I will come with you to meet Kacha and personally

request his intercession on behalf of the gods." Indra folded his hands in

reverence.

The sonorous chant of mantras by the young rakshasas reverberated from

Sukra's hermitage, situated in a sylvan glade in the forest adjoining

Vrshaparva, the asura capital. Sukra listened attentively to his disciples,

seated in orderly rows under the spreading branches of a tree.

Sukra's daughter, Devayaani, approached him with a vessel of drinking

water. Her attention was drawn to a young man entering the hermitage. The

youth was a complete stranger to the ashram, and to Vrshaparva's court.

Devayaani's curious eyes could not drag themselves away from the

newcomer's face. His obvious beauty and magnetism held her captive.

The young man came to stand before Sukra with his hands folded in

respect. "Gurudev,” his mellow voice was infinitely pleasing to the ear. "I,

Kacha, the son of Taara and Brhaspati – preceptor of the gods, salute you."

He bowed in reverence to Sukra. "I come here to dedicate myself to your

service. Please accept me as your disciple and bless me with your teaching."

Sukra's keen eyes appraised Kacha from head to foot. "Did you say son of

Brhaspati?" he asked, surprise writ large upon his face.

"Yes, gurudev ," Kacha admitted. "I come in search of your eminent

tutelage. It is my father who has sent me here to further my education.

Please accept me as your disciple."

"My dear Kacha," Sukra gave a wry smile. "Do you really believe that there

is any knowledge which Acharya Brhaspati himself does not possess?"

"My father insisted that studying under your eminent guidance would

benefit me a thousand fold more than his own instruction." Kacha remarked

with a smile.

'How charming his smile is!' thought Devayaani. Completely bewitched by

Kacha, she stared at him, forgetting to offer her father the water she carried

in her hands.

Kacha was the son of devaguru Brhaspati: that made him the son of her

father's arch-rival. Would her father send the young man on his way with a

few choice insults? Or, would he condescend to accept him as his disciple?

How pleasant it would be if the handsome Kacha lived in the hermitage as

her father's disciple! Devyaani waited anxiously to hear her father's

decision.

In direct contrast to the love-struck Devyaani, the young asuras glared at

Kacha in open antagonism. Dark thoughts filled their minds: son of the

devaguru ! He was undoubtedly here, in the guise of a disciple, to steal the

rakshasas’ secrets. Would Sukra fall for his honeyed compliments and

accept him?

"Father," prompted Devayaani softly, "if a guru is approached by a seeker

of knowledge, whoever the supplicant may be, he ."

"Must be accepted as a disciple by the guru, " Sukra completed his

daughter's sentence, his eyes still intent on Kacha.

"Gurudev !" one of the asura disciples exclaimed in horror. "Do you plan to

accept the deva- guru’s son as your disciple?"

"Yes, my boy," Sukra replied complacently. "This only demonstrates our

magnanimity and enhances our honour." He continued as a teacher. "You

must never overlook the noble code of conduct which ordains that a seeker

of knowledge should never be turned away."

"Father, have a drink of water." Devayaani belatedly proffered the vessel to

her father.

Sukra passed the container to Kacha saying, "Kacha, have some water." He

smiled kindly at his new student. "Accepting you as my disciple translates

into my accepting and honoring your father, Brhaspati."

Devayaani gave Kacha one more quick glance before running back to the

hermitage. There was a new spring in her step.

Sukra assigned Kacha the duty of tending the hermitage cows. Kacha's days

were soon filled with the routine of taking the herd to graze in the forest and

collecting flowers, fruits, sacrificial twigs and grass for the ritual worship.

These chores were in addition to his prescribed lessons. Kacha carried out

his errands promptly, with uncomplaining good humour. He was always

willing to lend a hand at the hermitage. Kacha's patience and dedication,

conspicuously absent in the coarse asura youth, appealed greatly to Sukra.

By dint of his diligence and obedience, Kacha soon earned his master's

approbation and a special place in his heart.

Kacha was often in Devayaani's company, as he helped her with her daily

chores in the house and with the care of the cows. His witty conversation

and gentle consideration secured her affection. To her delight, he grew

accustomed to bringing her delicious fruits and rare flowers from his

foraging expeditions to the forest.

Devayaani's initial attraction towards Kacha soon blossomed into full-

blown love. While Sukra gave Kacha a special place in his heart, his

daughter gave her heart itself to the handsome young man. Deluded by her

own love for him, Devayaani mistook Kacha's innate courtesy and charm as

signs that her feelings were reciprocated.

As Sukra's affection for Kacha, and Devayaani's love, grew stronger like the

rays of the rising sun, the hatred of the asura disciples also grew alongside,

like lengthening shadows. The young rakshasas deeply resented Kacha's

rise in their master's estimation and his hold on Sukra's affection.

"Kacha is the son of our enemy's preceptor: this obviously makes him our

enemy. Our master is mistakenly lavishing his affection and praise on him –

to our detriment." the senior most of the asura disciples spoke out in

protest. "We must not tolerate this injustice any longer."

"But, what can we do?" asked the others.

"I have an idea," their leader said. "Today, when Kacha leads the cows to

the forest, as usual, we will follow him stealthily and kill him."

"Hear, hear!" the asuras eagerly applauded the scheme. "This is the only

permanent solution to this vexing problem!"

Executing their sinister plan, the asuras followed Kacha to the forest. They

pounced on the unsuspecting young man as he grazed the cows, tied him to

a tree and murdered him in cold blood. Dusk fell over the hermitage and the

grazing cows found their way home from the forest without their keeper.

Time passed, but there was no sign of the young man.

Devayaani anxiously paced the front yard, peering intently into the

gathering darkness of night for some sign of Kacha's return. Her heart raced

with fearful thoughts: had he met with some dire peril in the thick of the

forest? Had some wild animal attacked him? Had he been bitten by a

venomous snake?

Filled with apprehension, Devayaani rushed to Sukra. "Father, the cows

have returned to the barn without Kacha. Night has fallen, but there is no

sign of him yet. I fear he has met with some untoward accident in the forest.

I am worried, father!"

To Sukra's astonishment, the distressed Devayaani burst into tears.

"Devayaani, why are you weeping?"

"Father, Kacha is my very life!" she confessed. "Please help him."

Sukra closed his eyes in single-minded meditation, summoning his

awesome mystic powers. After a while, he slowly emerged from his trance

and looked at his daughter. "Devayaani, Kacha is dead … he has been

bound to a tree in the forest and murdered."

"Father!" gasped Devayaani. Her body was convulsed by racking sobs.

"My dear, wipe your tears: Kacha will return to life. Remember that I

possess the power of the Mrtasanjeevani." Sukra consoled his beloved

daughter. "Go now, wash your face and compose yourself."

The reassured Devayaani smiled at him in gratitude and left to do as he had

ordered.

Sukra chanted the mantra which invoked the goddess of the

Mrtasanjeevani. Instantaneously, the benign goddess appeared before him,

ready to do his bidding.

"Sanjeevani," Sukra said authoritatively. "Kacha is my favourite disciple

and very dear to me. He now lies dead in the forest. I command you to

bring him back to life!"

The goddess of the Mrtasanjeevani whirled to the forest with the speed of

wind. She restored Kacha to life and led him back to the ashram. Presenting

the young man respectfully to the waiting asura-guru , the goddess

disappeared.

Devayaani rushed excitedly to meet Kacha. Her face wet with tears of joy,

she gazed at the young man. Her eyes brimmed with love. She then turned

to Sukra, who looked on, beaming with pride. "Father!" Devayaani fell into

his arms.

Sukra held his daughter close and stroked her back in tender caress. He

looked at Kacha over her head. "Kacha," Sukra said, "it was Devayaani who

noted your absence and grew apprehensive. She would not be consoled

until I promised to restore you to life. You are obviously everything to my

daughter."

"I am fortunate indeed, gurudev!" Kacha bowed in deep gratitude.

"Come, Kacha!" Devayaani said happily. "Mother is waiting for us."

Kacha sat in his hut, under the light of an oil lamp, revising the morning

lessons taught by Sukra. Suddenly, a gust of wind rushed in and the flame

flickered. Kacha frowned and looked searchingly towards the door which

he had earlier shut against the elements: Devayaani stood on the threshold.

She closed the door softly behind her and walked to him. Her white saree

floated about her like the translucent wings of an angel; her jet- black hair

was a rippling cascade down her back; her face glowed like the luminescent

full moon; her dark eyes were two mysterious pools of gleaming water …

"Kacha," her voice was husky, "tell me – what happened in the forest?"

"I have no idea," replied the bemused Kacha.

"Who … who killed you?" she asked urgently.

"I did not see or hear anyone. Suddenly, I felt excruciating pain: it was as

though a flaming bolt of steel pierced my heart …" Kacha shuddered in

remembered horror. "That is all I know …"

"Do not venture too deep into the forest in future. You must make sure that

you are back at the hermitage before sunset." She declared impassionedly:

"Kacha, do you realize that I could not endure life if anything happened to

you?!"

"Yes, Devayaani, I know – your affection is my shield against the

vicissitudes of life," Kacha expressed his heartfelt gratitude to her.

"Do you know why that is so?" she smiled meaningfully at him. "You are

my very life!"

"Yes, gurudev himself said the same thing to me earlier," Kacha asserted.

Devayaani stood to leave. "From tomorrow, you will stop at the forest

edge," she said.

"That depends of the cows, Devayaani," Kacha chuckled softly. "The

ashram cows seem to have a mind of their own!" He continued more

seriously. "You know that the cows, particularly the homadhenus used in

the rituals, must be given free rein to wander as they will."

"I do not know about such things and I do not care!" She was defiant. "All I

care about is your safety and all I know is that you are everything to me!"

Devayaani shut the door behind her and walked into the night.

The next morning, the asura disciples were chagrined to see Kacha seated

before their guru, serenely reciting the Vedic mantras. They quickly

deduced that Sukra had restored Kacha to life with the Mrtasanjeevani.

They held a hurried confabulation as to their next course of action.

Their leader suggested that they kill Kacha once again: only, this time, they

would ensure that his body did not remain behind to be reanimated by

Sukra. They finalized the details of their nefarious plot and bided their time.

An opportunity soon arrived for the conspirators to execute their plan.

A few days later, as Kacha set out for the forest with the herd of cows,

Devayaani asked him to bring her some particularly fragrant flowers. The

jubilant asuras, aware that these rare blooms could be found only in the

dense interior of the forest, decided that the time was ripe to do away with

their nemesis.

As Kacha ventured deep into the thick forest in search of the exotic flowers,

the group of would-be assassins clandestinely followed in his wake. Two

asuras ambushed the unwary Kacha and stabbed him with sharp daggers.

Slinging his corpse over their shoulders, the killers made their way to a

small, secluded clearing, where their co-conspirators had arranged a pyre.

The triumphant asuras flung Kacha's body on the pyre and burnt it. The

leader collected the ashes in a bag which he secreted inside his attire. The

wicked band stealthily returned to the hermitage, where they had earlier

hidden some wine in the thickets.

The ingenious asuras now mixed Kacha's ashes into the wine and made

their way to Sukra, who was seated at leisure on the dais. In an apparent

outpouring of devoted service to their guru , the disciples pressed his legs,

fanned him concernedly and urged him to drink the wine they offered. In

feigned innocence, they emphasized that they had prepared it especially for

him. Sukra, pleased with their evident devotion, consumed all the wine.

The asuras were jubilant at the success of their plan. "Our master's

favourite disciple has now entered our master's stomach through his

favourite drink!" Their leader crowed sarcastically. "Gurudev now cannot

restore the digested Kacha to life!"

Dusk fell and the grazing cows once again headed home without their

herder. Devayaani, waiting for Kacha to return with her flowers, was

immediately flooded by alarm. She rushed to her father, who was in a

pleasantly intoxicated state. Devayaani burst into tears and reported Kacha's

alarming absence. In vain, Sukra attempted to console his weeping

daughter.

The impassioned Devayaani declared: "Father, I will not let a morsel of

food, or a drop of water, touch my mouth until Kacha stands before me!"

His beloved daughter's evident agony cleared the fumes of intoxication

from Sukra's mind. He sat up in renewed alertness. "I will use my yogic

skills to deduce Kacha's fate. I assure you that I will soon restore him to

you." He patted Devayaani on her shoulders. "Now, wipe your tears and go

inside."

Devayaani, confident in her father's mystic power, obediently went in

search of her mother.

Sukra ritualistically washed his hands and feet and adopted the posture of

meditation. He concentrated the mystic vibration of his thoughts into

probing tendrils which sought out Kacha's presence. To Sukra's vast

surprise, he could find no trace of Kacha in the entire universe,

circumscribed by the awesome Lokaaloka Mountain. Undeterred, the

asura-guru single-mindedly focused on locating Kacha and persisted in his

endeavor. Finally, to his chagrin, Sukra divined that Kacha was in his own

stomach, in the form of ashes mixed with wine.

Sukra was immediately flooded with deep self-recrimination: it was his

fondness for wine which had led to this sorry state of affairs. He despised

the intoxicating drink which had camouflaged and carried the ashes of his

favourite disciple into his body. Sukra realized that the accumulated

wisdom of several births could vanish in a moment of inebriation.

The incensed asura-guru pronounced his malediction on the insidious

intoxicant: "This is the curse of Sukra – the consumption of wine will

hereafter be considered a sin. Wine-drinkers will be pushed into depravity

and find themselves in an excruciating hell."

Consumed by guilt for ingesting Kacha and excoriating himself for his

weakness for wine, the asura-guru immediately invoked the Mrtasanjeevani

to restore Kacha to life in a miniature form within the confines of his

stomach. Sukra reached out to Kacha with his mind.

"Gurudev!” exclaimed Kacha. "By your mercy, I am alive in the precincts

of your sacred stomach. Please extend your compassion to me and show me

a way out! Save me, master!"

Sukra sank into deep cogitation. The only way for Kacha to emerge from

his stomach was to burst out of its confines. But this would undoubtedly

lead to Sukra's own death. Sukra could be restored to life by the power of

the formidable Mrtasanjeevani. But, again, who could wield the mantra on

his behalf? He was forbidden by Lord Shiva to pass on the secret of the life-

giving incantation to a woman: this effectively ruled out both his wife and

daughter. Who was left? Kacha alone. Sukra reached the inevitable

conclusion: the only way out of this predicament was to pass on the secret

of the Mrtasanjeevani to Kacha.

"My dear Kacha," Sukra addressed his favoured disciple: "In order to return

to the outside world, you must burst through the walls of my stomach. Of

course, this will result in my own death."

He continued thoughtfully. "The only way out of this deadlock is for me to

teach you the Mrtasanjeevani before you emerge from my body – using this

mantra, you can then restore me to life."

"So be it, gurudev," Kacha agreed from the depths of Sukra's stomach.

"Remember, once you regain your original form, I will be inert. It is up to

you to bring me back to life using your mastery over the Mrtasanjeevani."

"It shall be as you command, master," Kacha assured him.

"Listen carefully, my son: I now impart to you the priceless Mrtasanjeevani

mantra …" Sukra conscientiously taught Kacha the secret of the life-

restoring chant.

"Emerge from my stomach, Kacha!" Sukra's voice rose in grave command.

"Make your master whole again through the power of the Mrtasanjeevani!"

In answer to his master's call, Kacha burst out of Sukra's stomach.

Instantaneously, he regained his original stature. For a moment, Kacha

stared in horror at the mangled remains of his master, who had died to give

him life. Kacha quickly gathered his thoughts and, in his turn, recited the

Mrtasanjeevani mantra. To his amazed relief, Sukra regained life and sat

up, whole. Kacha prostrated himself at his master's feet: Sukra blessed him,

his eyes mirroring his own gratitude.

The next morning, the asura disciples gaped in open-mouthed astonishment

at the sight of Kacha calmly going about his routine chores: obviously, very

much alive! In some unfathomable way, their plan had been foiled yet again

by their master. They gave up in despair.

Sukra roundly upbraided them: "You have stooped to the despicable level of

killing a fellow-disciple, reducing his remains to ashes, mixing those ashes

in your own master's wine and ensuring that your master consumed this

wine!" He glared at them in withering contempt. ‘As Kacha has survived

your dastardly machinations, I am overlooking your crime this time." His

voice rose. "However, be warned: I will not be so merciful in the future!"

The young asuras bowed their heads in abject shame. Tremors of fear ran

through the group.

Kacha intervened and stepped forward to stand before Sukra. "Gurudev,”

he said. "With your permission, I will make my departure from here." He

smiled wryly. "My continued presence will necessitate your daily

deployment of the Mrtasanjeevani on my behalf!"

"Yes, my dear Kacha," Sukra nodded in approval. "It is certainly advisable

for you to leave a hostile environment which poses a constant threat to your

life. Your father sent you to the shelter of my protection. Now, it is time I

returned you safely to his custody." He smiled. "On another note, your

education here is almost complete. Yes, the time is ripe for you to make

your departure from the ashram ."

Devayaani's adoring gaze lingered on Kacha. "Do you realize that you are

even handsomer after being resurrected from death for the second time?"

she asked him with a fond smile.

‘And the credit for it all goes to you!" Kacha exclaimed. "Master told me

that you refused to eat or drink until my return." His voice was thick with

emotion. "Devayaani, I am indebted to you – how can I ever repay you?"

"There is a way!" Her hands unthinkingly removed her upper garment in

suggestive invitation and then draped it back over her breasts. "Shall I tell

you how you can repay me?"

"Tell me." Kacha nodded eagerly, adding: "Whatever I do, I know that it

will always be inadequate. My debt of gratitude can never be paid. Even if

you consider a life for a life, I cannot repay you with my life." He smiled

tenderly at her. "I can only die once – but you gave me the gift of life

twice!"

"I do not want your life." Devayaani locked eyes with Kacha. "I want your

love."

"Devayaani, surely you know that I have abundant love and affection for

you!" Kacha protested.

"I know that: which is why I ask you to repay your debt of gratitude in this

way …" Her eyes pierced his own. "Marry me."

"Devayaani!!" Kacha gasped in outright astonishment. "You … have you

lost your mind?"

"Yes," she smiled serenely. "I lost my mind the moment I first set eyes on

you! From that very instant, my heart was no longer my own - it has been

circling you, weaving its songs of love." She asked, "Kacha, my dearest:

why this surprise in your eyes? On the day of your arrival in Vrshaparva,

Manmatha, the god of love, united us in marriage: the tying of the sacred

thread remains a mere formality."

"Devayaani ." the flabbergasted Kacha was at a loss for words.

"I saw you," she whispered dreamily, "and you crept into my heart.I offered

myself to you, body and soul, on that very day."

"Devayaani," Kacha said with gentle regret, "you are living in a dream

world of your own creation."

"Kacha!" Her cry was anguished.

"Do you know the prescribed relationship between a disciple and his

master's daughter?"

Devayaani's voice remained deceptively calm. "I do not know."

"Do you know the relationship between a disciple and his master …

between an individual and the person who gave him life?" Kacha persisted.

"I do not know," she replied implacably.

"Yes, you do know!" Kacha burst out. "You know it well - don't deny it!

You certainly know that the guru 's daughter is like a sister to his disciple.

You know that the guru and the giver of life are both akin to a person's

father!"

Devayaani's unswerving gaze held Kacha's.

"Devayaani, you are my guru 's daughter: that makes you my sister. Your

father is both my guru and my life-giver: that makes me his son." His voice

was persuasive. "Please accept this reality and forget your unreasonable

demands."

Devayaani's melting eyes hardened and flashed fire. "I understand now,

Kacha: you pretended to love me so that you could obtain the

Mrtasanjeevani! Your avowals of love and affection were nothing more

than cheap lies to help you achieve your objective!" She threw her

accusation at him in burning contempt.

"I will say it even now – I have the utmost love and affection for you!"

Kacha protested indignantly. "I only expressed the true feelings in my heart.

It is you who misconstrued my love into lust." He was now the accuser.

"You are the one at fault – not I!" Kacha bowed courteously to her. "My

heartfelt gratitude to you for your affection, sister. My guru has granted me

permission to depart from here." He turned to leave.

"Stop!" Devayaani's shout made him halt in his tracks. Kacha turned back

to her.

Devayaani's eyes were balls of fire in her red face. She panted, her chest

heaving with the ebb and flow of the angry tide of her emotions. Her entire

body trembled in fury. "The scales have fallen from my eyes, Kacha." Her

lips curled in contempt. "I see through your charade: you came here for the

Mrtasanjeevani! Those stupid asura disciples played into your hand with

their attacks on you. My father's desire to restore your life was another

unexpected stroke of luck."

She paused and locked eyes with him. Her voice crescendoed to a shriek.

"Hear me, Kacha: the Mrtasanjeevani … the mantra which gave you life

twice … the mantra which my father so trustingly taught you … this same

mantra will not work when invoked by you. This is the curse of Devayaani,

daughter of Sukra!"

Kacha remained unmoved by Devayaani's fury. "I did no wrong," he

insisted. "The only way to obtain the Mrtasanjeevani is to be taught its

secret by the guru – which is what my master did! And now, your curse has

made it impossible for me to use it myself!"

"You shameless cheat!" she screamed. "Do not show me your face again:

get out!"

"I will go," retorted the angry Kacha. "But, before I do so, I will repay you

in kind for your curse." He locked eyes with her. ‘As you were consumed

by inappropriate lust, you will not marry within your own clan: this is the

curse of Kacha, son of Brhaspati!"

Kacha stalked out of the hut and went straight to Sukra. The asura- guru

remarked the thunderous expression on his favourite disciple's face and

looked interrogatively at Kacha.

"Gurudev" Kacha asked, "what is the relationship between a disciple and

his master's daughter?"

"Of course, my son – they are like brother and sister," Sukra asserted

categorically.

"From the very beginning, I have treated Devayaani as my own sister."

Kacha paused. "In line with my brotherly affection for her, I have turned

down her proposal of marriage."

"You have but followed the code of dharma , Kacha. You may leave!"

Sukra raised his hand in benediction over Kacha.

"These are the highlights of Sukra's life." Nirvikalpananda smiled at his

disciples.

"Master," Sadananda quickly spoke up. "You did not narrate the episode in

which Sukra cursed Yayaathi."

"I think the master has forgotten it," said Chidananda.

"No, Chidananda: I did not forget!" The master paused to explain: "That

episode is not particularly relevant to our discourse – it belongs to

Yayaathi's story." Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "However, since you

are interested, I will touch upon it here."

He continued. "One day, Sarmishta, Vrshaparva's daughter, in the heat of a

quarrel, pushed Devayaani into an unused well in the forest and abandoned

her there. Subsequently, King Yayaathi, who happened to be passing by,

saved Devayaani. The vengeful Devayaani instigated her father, Sukra, into

making Sarmishta her servant maid. Devayaani married Yayaathi, but he

fell in love with Sarmishta and secretly married her too. The enraged Sukra

cursed Yayaathi with premature old age."

"Master," it was Shivananda's turn. "What about the story in which Sukra

becomes one-eyed?"

"Now, now: you must let me come to each story in my own order – that

incident belongs under the segment which delineates the glories of the

Navagrahas.” Nirvikalpananda gently reprimanded his enthusiastic

disciples. "Let me first tell you the life story of the seventh graha:

Sanaischara."

There was an immediate stir of excitement among the four pupils.

"Master, I am certain that Sanaischara's life will ten times more interesting

than that of the other grahas!" exclaimed the eager Sadananda.

"The Puranas give us a very limited account of Sanaischara's life. The

enlightened hold that Sanaischara worshipped Brahma and that Lord Shiva

was his favourite deity. We are also told that Sani simultaneously impressed

the Holy Trinity, the Trimurti."

Nirvikalpananda paused to look at his attentive listeners. "A large part of

our knowledge of Sanaischara comes from word of mouth passed on from

generation to generation. When such information does not impinge

negatively on the character, attitude, principles and power of Sanaischara, it

is quite appropriate to accept these accounts."

"But, master – they may be just figments of the imagination …"

Vimalananda was hesitant. "Can we accept them?"

Nirvikalpananda smiled serenely. "If we look at it logically, there can be no

fiction without fact. Imagination stems from what has been actually heard,

seen or read – in other words, from what has been experienced by the

senses. Truth is the foundation of imagination and fact is the mother of

fiction. There will be an element of imagination in these versions … but

truth will certainly lurk behind such inventiveness."

"Master, your rationale is commendable!" exclaimed Chidananda. "Please

continue with the story of Sani's life."

"Very well, Chidananda – listen. As I told you, Sani, Saavarni and Tapati,

Chaaya's children, are growing up in Samjna's care. Yama, Samjna's son,

returned from his penance in the forest. There was a new radiance in his

face …"

Nirvikalpananda resumed his narrative.

The Life of Sanaischara

Y ama, returning from his extended penance in the forest, touched his

parents' feet in respect. He straightened up and warmly embraced Sani,

Saavarni, Yami and Tapati.

Surya regarded his son fondly "Yama, I hope you have successfully

completed your penance."

"Lord Brahma has blessed me with an incredible position, father – one of

the utmost importance." Yama's eyes gleamed. "The Creator has appointed

me the Regent of the South!"

"Is that so?!" Samjna glowed with pride, as she looked at Surya. "My son

has become a dikpaalaka: one of the eight guardians of the directions!"

"Brahma enumerated my manifold duties. I will bind the dead souls with

my lasso – the paasa. Subsequently I will weigh their virtues against their

sins, prior to deciding whether to banish them to one of the twenty-seven

hells under my jurisdiction, or reward them with entry into heaven."

Yama paused and continued gravely. "The Creator instructed me to

propitiate Lord Shiva to obtain the required knowledge which would equip

me to judge the merits and demerits of the dead."

"Did you follow his advice, son?" Samjna asked.

"Yes, mother," Yama replied. "In accordance with Brahma's counsel, I went

to the mighty Himalayan Mountains to win Shiva's favour. In due course,

the Lord, pleased with my rigorous tapas, appeared before me … and what

happened next was a truly incredible experience!"

Surya and Samjna were all ears as Yama continued: "Lord Shiva initiated

me into the mysteries of the renowned Sikshaasmrthi – the treatise on

punishment, authored by the Lord himself."

Yama paused to get their undivided attention. "Lord Shiva passed on his

knowledge to me through the language of transcendental silence. During his

entire course of instruction, the Lord's lips did not move – but his awesome

voice resounded with crystal clarity in the innermost reaches of my being!"

"Yama," exclaimed Surya, "you are fortunate indeed!"

"Swami," asked the curious Samjna, "did Lord Shiva himself formulate the

Sikshaasmrthi ?"

"Yes, Samjna," Surya explained. "Lord Shiva, as the destroyer of the worlds

at the time of the Maha Pralaya, or Total Annihilation, is the one who gives

peaceful repose to the souls who are sorely tired by the cycle of birth and

death. Aware of the necessity of computing the virtues and sins

accumulated by mortals in the course of each birth, the Lord framed the

treatise as the ultimate instrument of fair judgement."

Yama addressed his parents: "Viswakarma, the divine architect, has

completed the construction of a city for me on the southern face of the

Maha Meru Mountain. The city is called Samyamani. It holds a court of

vast dimension – an incredible hundred yojanas in length and width! I have

been tasked with performing my duties in this court." Yama bowed

reverentially to his parents and continued, "I will proceed to Samyamani

with your blessings. Once I begin to discharge my duties, I am to be known

as 'Yamadharmaraja.'"

"Yamadharmaraja!" Surya exclaimed with a wry smile of approbation. "An

eminently suitable name for a person who constantly recites the word

dharma !"

"My heart brims with happiness." Samjna smiled contentedly. "My eldest

son, Vaivasvata has become a king, with the title of 'Manu.' Now, my

second son is to be the regent of a direction." She paused to advise Yama.

"Son, before proceeding to Samyamani, visit Vaivasvata and Sraddha and

seek their blessings."

"Yes, mother," Yama said obediently "I will stop to meet my brother and

sister-in-law."

Surya's family had listened to the account of Yama's achievements with the

greatest pride and pleasure. However, there was one exception to this happy

group: as Yama proceeded with his narrative, Sani's dark face was slowly

engulfed by hot waves of disappointment and jealousy.

Samjna turned to the children and said, "Saavarni, your brother, Yama, has

pleased both Brahma and Lord Shiva with his dedication and devoted

penance. Consequently, he has been anointed one of the dikpaalakas,

blessed with a phenomenal court in a beautiful city and …"

Surya intervened: "You should all consider Yama as your role model and

attempt to emulate his achievements."

"I will achieve greater fame than Yama!" Sani's declaration was an

impassioned shout of protest.

The entire family turned to him in surprise. Sani's eyes burned an angry red.

"Sanaischara," Surya said, "What is the meaning of this aggressive fury?"

Sani locked eyes with his father. "Yama could only please two gods:

Brahma and Shiva." He drew himself up to his full height. "I, Sanaischara,

will propitiate all three of the Holy Trinity: Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva!"

Yama, shocked at Sani's sudden outburst, laid a conciliatory hand on his

shoulder. "Brother …"

Sani roughly brushed aside Yama's hand. "So, you think you are better than

everyone else, do you?" Sani leered sarcastically at him. "Well, let me tell

you something, 'Brother:' I will surpass you in achievement! I will ensure

that your fame is diminished by my success!"

"Sani!" Samjna was aghast. "You are being insolent!

"It is not insolence: it is self-confidence and self-esteem," Sani retorted.

"You will be forced to appreciate me in the way you just gushed over

Yama!"

"Sanaischara!" Surya thundered. "That is quite enough!"

"I am leaving," Sani said loudly "I will not return without obtaining boons

from the Trimurti.”

"Brother …" Saavarni reached out to him.

"I shall come back in triumph, Saavarni." Sani cut him short and stalked out

of the room. There was a moment's stunned silence …

"Swami," Samjna's voice was a sad whisper. "Why is Sani so jealous?"

Surya smiled reassuringly at his wife. ‘As a goad for the necessary

development of his own personality, my dear!"

Sani walked slowly along the narrow forest track. Sage Narada, making his

way across the sky, saw the solitary youth and landed some way ahead of

him.

The sage walked back to Sani and accosted him with his trademark chant:

"Narayana!"

Sani stopped in mid-stride and gave Narada a desultory glance. "Pranam,

Sage Narada," he said mechanically, folding his hands in salutation.

"I offer your greetings to Lord Narayana," said Narada with a benign smile.

"Where are you headed, son of Surya?"

"Narada, you should have added my mother's name and addressed me as the

'son of Surya and Chaaya.'" Sani frowned in reprimand.

"Narayana!" exclaimed the sage. "Of course, you are Chaaya's son: even if I

fail to proclaim it, nothing can change that undeniable fact!" He changed

the subject. "You are walking very fast – where are you headed to in such a

hurry?"

‘Are you ridiculing me, Narada?" Sani flushed in anger. "I have been

picking my way as if on a thorn-strewn path!" His voice was bitterly

accusatory. "You know very well that I am naturally endowed with a slow

gait. Hampered in this way, is it possible for me to walk fast? Do not mock

me!"

"Narayana!" Narada protested. "I only meant to suggest that your

purposeful stride speaks of a definite objective." He lowered his voice. "Are

you on a secret mission?"

"Is penance considered a secret mission?"

"Penance?" asked Narada curiously. ‘And which god do you intend to

propitiate with your tapas – Brahma, Vishnu or Shiva?"

"I, Sanaischara, consider all the three to be equal, Narada." Sani declared

haughtily. "My penance will be directed simultaneously to the Trimurti ."

"Narayana!" Narada gasped in astonishment. "Why propitiate three gods?

After all, any one of them is perfectly capable of showering you with boons

in his own right!"

"I have decided to propitiate the Trinity as one entity, Narada." Sani

reiterated firmly. "Nothing can make me change my mind." He continued:

"Do you know that Yama obtained the favour of two of them: Brahma and

Shiva? Now, I shall earn the goodwill of all three!"

"Narayana! Narayana!" Narada smiled knowingly. "I now understand! Of

course, your intention is good … but, are you aware that this objective can

be achieved only after a very, very long time?"

Sani locked eyes with Narada. "I assure you that I am very much aware

that, if you continue to stand in my way, blathering about inconsequential

things, it will definitely take me a very, very long time to reach my goal!"

"Narayana!" the sage gave an appeasing smile. ‘After all, you are Surya's

son: I am here merely to enquire about your welfare – that's all!" He

paused. "Of course, it is also for your welfare that I give you my humble

opinion: in order to propitiate the three godheads of the Trinity, one is

required to choose three different times and three different …"

"Narada!" Sani interrupted rudely. ‘And who told you these conditions?

Why do you presume to be knowledgeable about things beyond your

experience?" He made an impassioned declaration. "Listen well, Narada: I

shall perform tapas to propitiate Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva all at once …

understand? Simultaneously – is that clear to you?" Sani's lips curled in

contempt, "So, go your way – and let me go mine!"

"Narayana!" Narada's chant reflected his astonishment. "Propitiating three

gods all at once! Doing penance to the Trimurti simultaneously! It is

unprecedented! Such tapas has never been attempted in the past: nor will it

be replicated in the future!"

"Well, it is going to be executed in the present!" Sani shot back at Narada.

"Go, Narada: spread these sensational tidings throughout the three worlds.

Go!"

Dismissing Narada with these curt words, Sani resumed his resolute walk.

Narada, mouth agape, stepped aside and stared at his receding figure.

Sanaischara embarked on his penance in a secluded glade in the heart of the

forest. He formulated three Ashtaakshari mantras – three incantations

composed of eight letters each, addressing Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara

in turn.

Om Chaturmukhaaya namah! Om Mahaavishnave namah! Om

Maheswaraaya namah!

Sani meditated on the Trimurti simultaneously, reciting his three mantras

consecutively. Sani's unprecedented, unique method of invocation became a

watershed in the history of penance. His tapas scaled new heights of

spiritual power and intense concentration. They reached out to Brahma,

Vishnu and Maheswara with the visceral pull of an infant's cry to his father.

Yet, the peculiar circumstance of Sani's penance rendered them helpless to

respond!

Sani's invocation of Brahma with the mantra, 'Om Chaturmukhaaya

namah!' reached the Creator. However, before Brahma could appear before

Sani, his next incantation, 'Om Mahaavishnave namah!' intervened to block

the Creator's move and kept him firmly on his lotus throne! Brahma was

forced to concede that it was Vishnu whom Sani sought to propitiate.

In the same way, whenever Lord Vishnu prepared himself to grant Sani his

darshan, the mantra, 'Om Maheswaraaya namah!’ halted him in his tracks.

The Lord continued to recline benignly on his serpent-bed of Adisesha's

coils, leaving it to Shiva to respond to Sani's call.

Likewise, Lord Shiva was also drawn to answer Sani's insistent invocation.

Again, Sani's mantra to Brahma overlapped with his own and forced Shiva

to remain unresponsive.

Sani's unanswered, unique, three-fold penance rose in tempo. The

devouring heat of its intensity engulfed the three worlds: it burst into a

conflagration which reduced the forests to ashes, made simmering

cauldrons of the oceans and led to a mounting loss of life. The phenomenal

heat of Sani's tapas reached up to the heavens. The agitated Indra

summoned his mentor, Brhaspati, and requested him to determine the cause

of this unexpected heat wave.

Before the deva-guru could respond, he was interrupted by the familiar

chant, "Narayana!"

It was Sage Narada.

"Mahendra," remarked the smiling Brhaspati, "I have been preempted by

the arrival of the messenger of the three worlds! He will answer your

doubts!"

"Narayana!" said Narada in greeting. "I suppose you refer to the unnatural

heat wave which has engulfed all the worlds. As we all know, Indra is

responsible for the welfare of the three worlds: that is why I have hastened

here to appraise him of the peculiar circumstances prevailing." He

continued with his tidings. "The uncommon method of penance adopted by

Sanaischara, Surya's son, is the reason for the dire peril faced by the

cosmos."

Brhaspati and Indra listened to Narada's words and exchanged glances of

wonder.

"And what exactly is the reason for this youth's peculiar penance?" asked

Indra in exasperation.

"He insists that the three godheads of the Holy Trinity – Brahma, Vishnu

and Shiva, appear before him simultaneously," Narada replied.

"Appearance of the Trimurti at the same time!" Indra gasped in amazement.

"This is nothing but sheer madness!"

"Yes," agreed Brhaspati. "Sani's unnatural desire poses a grave danger to

the three worlds."

"I shall cure his madness," firmly declared the irate king of the devas. "I

will immediately dispatch two exquisite apsaras to disrupt his manic

penance." Indra smiled sarcastically "We will ensure that he is too busy

pursuing our beauties to find time to resume his tapas!"

"Well thought, Mahendra!" Brhaspati applauded the scheme. "Let's not lose

any time in putting your plan into action!"

"That Sani is an arrogant and insolent youth …" Narada inserted a note of

caution into the proceedings.

"Never fear, Maharshi ," Indra was supremely confident. "His arrogance

and insolence will vanish with the winds when he sees the captivating

beauty of the pair of nymphs I am sending to pay him a visit."

Two apsaras , attired in seductive, gossamer-thin garments, and adorned

with divine ornaments, arrived at the secluded glade of Sani's tapas . As

their startled eyes took in the ferocious nature of his penance, their hearts

quailed and the blood rushed to their heads.

The nymphs stared at Sani in morbid fascination: a feeble, black body; eyes

half-closed in meditation; contorted facial features. A dull, crimson glow

radiated from his adamantine body, rigid in its seated posture. Menacing,

dark tentacles reached out into the surrounding atmosphere. The two

watchers were suddenly filled with the same conviction – one glance from

this terrifying apparition and they would be reduced to ashes!

The apsaras exchanged looks of alarm: at the next instant, they vanished

from the scene!

Indra was dumbstruck as the excited apsaras described their encounter with

Sani. The king of the devas, keenly aware that his apsaras were formidable

in their determination to succeed, now conceded that defeating Sani might

be beyond his capabilities. Indra turned to Brhaspati for advice.

"Mahendra, I think the Trimurti are our only recourse in this predicament,"

the preceptor said.

"Master," said Indra, "please accompany me. Let us supplicate the Trimurti

for their aid."

Brahma gave Indra and Brhaspati a patient hearing. However, he shook his

head at their request.

"I'm afraid you will have to reach out to Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva in this

situation. Sani's penance is intolerably intense. Each time he invokes my

name, I attempt to grant him my darshan : however, I am rendered helpless

by his subsequent recitation of Lord Vishnu's name."

"For the welfare of the worlds, I implore you to ignore Sani's extraordinary

method of penance," Indra bowed to Brahma with folded hands. "In spite of

his sequential chant of the Trimurti’s three names, please appear before him

once."

"When he sees Brahma, the Creator, he will forget to invoke the others,"

Brhaspati added his own words of persuasion.

"Very well," Brahma agreed, "considering the well-being of the worlds, I

will grant Sani my darshan ."

Indra and Brhaspati expressed their gratitude to the Creator and left on the

next step of their mission. They met Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva in turn

and placed the same proposal before the Gods. After deep consideration,

both Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva agreed to comply with their urgent

request.

The inhabitants of the three worlds endured untold agony under the glare of

Sani's fierce, heat-generating penance.

Keeping his word to Indra, Lord Brahma appeared before Sani and said:

"Sanaischara, your penance pleases me greatly!"

Sani folded his hands in salutation and asked: "Where is Vishnu? Where is

Shiva??"

Brahma smiled magnanimously. "I am here, my son. I am ready to shower

you with boons of your asking."

"Forgive me, Bhagavan!" Sani replied determinedly. "Unless the Trimurti

appear before me simultaneously, I will not ask for anything."

Sani resumed his intense tapas . Helpless in the face of Sani's stubborn

resolve, Brahma vanished.

After a short interval, Lord Vishnu made his appearance before Sani.

"Sanaischara," called Lord Vishnu, "it is time to end your penance. I am

here to grant you the boons you desire."

Sani opened his eyes and offered his respectful greetings to Lord Vishnu.

"Bhagavan, Brahma and Shiva are not with you."

"They will each give you their darshan in turn," Vishnu reassured Sani.

"Now, tell me what you want from me."

"The objective of my penance is to receive the darshan of the Trimurti at

the same time." Sani reiterated firmly. "I will not dilute the specifications of

my tapas at this stage." He bowed to Vishnu. "Please excuse me for my

adherence to the parameters of my penance and go away. If you are truly

moved to munificence by my tapas , please come along with Brahma and

Shiva."

Sani closed his eyes and resumed his staunch meditation.

"Sanaischara," Lord Vishnu chuckled softly. "Look here!"

Sani remained indifferent to the Lord's summons. He obstinately persisted

in his recitation of his Ashtaakshari mantra:

“Om Chaturmukhaaya namah! Om Mahaavishnave namah! Om

Maheswaraaya namah!”

"Sanaischara!" Three resonant voices chorused in unison. The majestic

tones crashed against his ears like the roar of storm clouds and penetrated

into the depths of his trance. Sani opened his eyes – there before him stood

the smiling Trimurti.

Sani hurriedly rose to his feet and prostrated himself before the Holy

Trinity. "I am fortunate to be blessed with the simultaneous darshan of the

Trimurti!” Sani's voice shook with fervor.

"Sanaischara, you are obstinate indeed!" Lord Vishnu smiled at him. "Your

unyielding stance has forced us to appear before you as a trio."

"Lord, excuse my adamancy," Sani said in deep humility. "My cousin,

Yama, boasted of his feat of obtaining the favour of two of the Trimurti . I

felt belittled by his attitude. That ignited my zeal to propitiate the Trimurti

as one entity and compel them to grant me their darshan at the same time."

"Very well, Sanaischara," Brahma said. "What do you want from us?"

Sani folded his hands in reverence and said: "My Lords, grant me these

boons: let my sight and name inspire fear in all living beings: may they

worship me with devotion, mingled with fear. Let my devotees be blessed

with longevity. Grant me these boons in one voice."

"So be it, Sanaischara," the Trimurti said in unison.

Sani bowed to them and continued: "Grant me a position which is in no way

inferior to that of Yama," he asked.

"You will be anointed to such a post in the near future," declared Lord

Vishnu.

"We will ensure your appointment to a position of renown," agreed Lord

Shiva.

"I am indeed blessed," Sani sang out in delight.

The Trimurti vanished as one.

Sanaischara returned home in triumph and prostrated himself at his parents'

feet. He then looked round searchingly. "Where is Yama?" he asked.

‘After your departure, Yama, following Brahma's instructions, left for

Samyamani to assume charge as the dikpaalaka of the south," said Samjna.

"I wanted him to hear of my achievement at first-hand," Sani heaved a sigh

of disappointment. He turned to Surya and said: "Father, I embarked on a

rigorous course of penance to propitiate the Trimurti at the same time. As a

consequence of my devotion and unswerving determination, Brahma,

Vishnu and Maheswara appeared before me simultaneously."

"Can this be true?" Surya exclaimed in astonishment. "Penance directed

towards the three godheads at the same time?! Incredible!"

"Yes, father," Sani beamed with pride. "I earned the favour of the three gods

and they blessed me with their darshan simultaneously. They condescended

to grant me all the boons I desired."

Sani elaborated on the boons he had received from the Trimurti. Surya,

Samjna, Saavarni, Yami and Tapati burst into hearty congratulations on

Sani's remarkable achievement.

Sani locked eyes with Surya. "Father," he said, "when Yama boasted that he

had succeeded in propitiating both Brahma and Shiva, you praised him at

great length: now I have surpassed his achievement, by obtaining the

blessings of three gods. Not one … not two … but Three Gods! What do

you say now, father?"

Surya looked meaningfully at his son. "Sani, you voluntarily took Yama's

achievement as a challenge: remember, nobody, including Yama, provoked

you to take that stand. Taking up this challenge has earned you rich

dividends." A smile lit up Surya's radiant face. "My son, I congratulate you

wholeheartedly. I sing your praise. Of course, as Yama's father, I extolled

his achievement: now, I commend you too. I do not hesitate to praise you

repeatedly: after all, you are the giver of long life to mortals!"

"Yes," agreed Samjna. "Swami, our Sanaischara has now matured into a

complete individual. It is time we found a suitable bride for him."

"Mother," Sani quickly intervened. "Let me make it clear to you at the very

outset: I will not marry just any ordinary maiden. As you know, fear

automatically grips anyone who looks at me. I will accept as my bride only

a woman of great courage who will be able to look unflinchingly into the

terrifying depths of my eyes."

"It shall be as you wish, my son." Samjna reassured Sani. "We will find a

brave wife for you."

"Yes," reiterated Sani, "this is my condition for marriage." He walked out of

the chamber, accompanied by the admiring Saavarni, Yami and Tapati.

"It will be a difficult task," Surya said thoughtfully to himself.

"What will be difficult, Swami ?" Samjna asked innocently.

"To find a bride who can fearlessly gaze into our Sani's terrifying eyes!"

Surya heaved a sigh.

Her name was Jyeshtha. Hers was a fearsome beauty -she had the darkest of

complexions and her protruding eyes were tiny balls of fire. Her ugly face

was so repulsive that no one could hold her gaze for even a brief moment.

When she emerged from the Ocean of Milk, Vishnu and Shiva turned away

from her in instinctive revulsion. However, Brahma, with his four faces,

found it impossible to avoid the sight of her repulsive visage. As the hapless

Creator continued to suffer this unavoidable torment, Lord Vishnu pitied

him and commanded Jyeshtha to remove herself from their presence.

Jyeshtha complied and devoted her time to wandering the worlds in

constant search of a male who could tolerate her appearance and accept her

as his wife.

During her visit to Swarga on this quest, Indra saw her at a distance. Even

this brief glimpse of her was enough to send the king of the devas scurrying

for cover to the Nandana garden!

The entire heavenly community, including the gandharvas, kinnaras and

kimpurushas , could not muster the courage to confront her. Their youth

fled at her approach: those unable to make a timely getaway fell

unconscious with the shock of her appearance. The siddhas and chaaranaas

reacted to her in the same way.

Even in the nether worlds, the ferocious rakshasas ran for their lives at the

news of her coming. Jyeshtha moved on to try the regents of the eight

directions. The dikpaalakas hurriedly closed the gates of their cities and

abodes to avoid meeting her. Staunchly refusing to give up hope, Jyeshtha

persisted in her search for a male companion.

Jyeshtha now wandered thoughtfully along a narrow path in the depths of a

forest. As her futile quest continued endlessly, she was forced to confront

the possibility that creation was perhaps incomplete. 'After all,' she thought,

'if creation was indeed entire in itself, I would surely have come across my

male counterpart: someone who would dare to gaze into my face and

recognize its unique beauty.'

A sudden sound caught her ears. Someone was approaching from the

opposite direction. Jyeshtha quickly moved aside and concealed herself

behind a tree trunk.

"Narayana! Narayana! Nar …" Sage Narada abruptly stopped his paean of

praise to Lord Vishnu, as Jyeshtha emerged from hiding to block his path.

With one startled look at her terrifying visage, the sage turned tail and ran!

"Stop!" Jyeshtha shouted after him.

Narada obeyed but prudently kept his back turned towards the stranger.

"I know who you are," Jyeshtha laughed. "You are the divine Sage Narada –

look at me, Narada!" she commanded.

"I do not dare face you …" Narada stammered.

"And why is that, may I know?" Her defiant question posed a challenge.

"I am afraid that my admiration will cause me to cast the evil eye on you!"

exclaimed the sage, past master at witty repartee!

"I like you," Jyeshtha chuckled. "No one has ever paid me a compliment –

in fact, no one even looks at me. They avoid me like the plague." She

paused thoughtfully. "Everyone is afraid of me: except you! Narada, it is

evident that you like me very much. Why don't you marry me?

"Narayana!" Narada was aghast. "I am a born bachelor: this means that I am

ordained to remain single all my life!" he explained urgently. "I certainly

cannot marry anyone!"

"I refuse to accept any of your lame excuses, Narada." Jyeshtha declared

determinedly. "I will not let you evade marriage to me." She moved to the

horrified sage and placed her hand on his shoulder in a possessive gesture.

"Jyeshtha!" Narada shuddered. "Listen to me: the person you marry should

share your remarkable courage. He should be able to gaze unflinchingly

into your beautiful eyes without the least trace of fear. A coward does not

deserve to marry you!"

Jyeshtha's hand slipped from Narada's shoulder. "Are you too afraid of

looking at my face, Narada?" There was a forlorn note in her voice.

"I will be honest with you, Jyeshtha," the sage's eyes were compassionate.

"I belong to the vast majority of males who tremble with fear at your sight!

My remark about the evil eye was only a poor attempt at humour." Narada,

unable to help himself, turned his face away from her. Keeping his gaze

averted, he said kindly: "Continue your search for a male who can tolerate

your physical demeanour."

Jyeshtha heaved a sigh of despair. "Narada, I have crisscrossed the worlds

in my search for a partner who will not be revolted at my sight. I assure

you, in all the expanse of the cosmos, there is not a single soul who can

fearlessly lock eyes with me!"

"There is such a person, Jyeshtha – believe me, I know someone who would

not hesitate to stare intrepidly into your eyes." Narada was emphatic. "Just

as it is almost impossible to look at your face, no one can summon the

courage to gaze at his."

"Is this true, Narada!?" Jyeshtha exclaimed in growing excitement.

"Let me describe this person," continued Narada. "His complexion is as

dark as a storm cloud. His protruding eyes are a terrifying mix of flaming

reds and yellows. It is impossible to look directly into his appalling face.

One glance at his eyes is enough to strike panic into the soul!"

"Oh, can there really be such a handsome male in creation?!" Jyeshtha

exclaimed in delight. "Who is he? Where does he live?" Her voice quivered

in uncontrollable enthusiasm.

Narada, his face still averted from her, asked: "Have you been in the

direction of the golden abode in which Surya dwells?"

"No …" Jyeshtha said hesitantly.

"Then, go in that direction." Narada pointed her towards the correct path.

"There you will meet the person I described," he assured her.

"Who is he, Narada?" she implored him. "Tell me who he is!"

"Very well," Narada smiled. "I will give you a few pointers as to how you

can identify him: he will stand his ground when he sees you; he will not

avert his gaze from your face; just as you look at others fearlessly, he will

look into the depths of your protruding eyes without flinching. When you

meet such a person, you will instinctively know that he is meant to be your

partner for life."

He paused and asked: "Now, will you let me be on my way?"

Only silence greeted his question. Narada looked up cautiously – Jyeshtha

was a rapidly moving speck in the distance!

Far ahead of her, Jyeshtha saw a person coming in her direction: his feeble

figure was thin, almost to the point of emaciation; he walked gingerly, as

though picking his way carefully over sharp stones. Jyeshtha smiled in wry

amusement at the stranger who approached her at a snail's pace.

'Hah!' she thought contemptuously to herself. 'One look at me, and he will

grow wings under his sluggish feet!'

She came face-to-face with the stranger and stopped defiantly To her

amazement, he stood his ground and gazed intently into her eyes. His own

eyes were tiny little goblets of fire, speckled with shades of red and yellow.

His unwavering glance was absolutely devoid of fear. The stranger

continued to stare at her in unblinking fascination. He seemed to be

mesmerized by the glare of her beady, protruding eyes. His face reflected

his admiration for the courage of a woman who could look unflinchingly

into his own terrifying eyes.

"Who are you, you beautiful woman?" he asked.

Hope illuminated Jyeshtha's dark face. The stranger was not repulsed by her

– in fact, he was talking to her! Could this be the person suggested by

Narada?

"First tell me who you are!" she countered.

He drew himself up proudly and said, "I am Sanaischara, son of Chaayadevi

and Surya."

‘And I am Jyeshthadevi," she said in turn. "I emerged from the Ocean of

Milk." She locked eyes with him and declared boldly: "You are the one I

have been searching for – will you marry me?"

Sani did not hesitate. He extended his hand to her and said, "Come, let us

go and obtain my father's permission for our marriage."

Jyeshtha eagerly gave him her hand. They walked together towards Surya's

palace.

"Father," said Sani, "this is Jyeshtha. Like me, she has long been in search

of a partner who could look fearlessly into her eyes. Now, we have found

each other. If you grant us your permission …"

Surya intervened with a smile. "You both have my blessings to become

husband and wife, Sani. We will arrange your marriage at a suitably

auspicious time."

Sani's nuptials were celebrated with all happiness in the presence of

Kasyapa and his wives and Viswakarma and his wife. Surya, Samjna and

Sage Narada joined them in blessing the newly-married couple.

Sani commenced his new life with Jyeshtha.

"We have come to the end of Sani's life history," said Nirvikalpananda. "We

will now move on to the life of Rahu."

He continued: ‘As we know, Rahu, son of Kasyapa's wife, Simhika, and

Ketu, who had originated from Mrtyu's sigh, and was brought up by

Danudevi, another of Kasyapa's wives, have reached manhood. Rahu and

Ketu came into their own at the renowned Churning of the Ocean of Milk.

In order to fully understand these developments, it is essential to first

comprehend the reasons for the Churning of the Ocean of Milk. The

primary cause for the churning was Sage Durvasa …"

"Master," Chidananda interrupted eagerly. "Wasn't Sage Durvasa Lord

Shiva's incarnation – born as Anasuya's son?"

"Yes, my boy," Nirvikalpananda smiled wryly. "He is the one and only

Durvasa! He was extremely short-tempered. He was notorious for his

tendency to pronounce curses at the least provocation – moreover, he would

adamantly refuse to revoke his maledictions! One day, Sage Durvasa was

on his way through a forest…"

The master once again took up his narrative.

OceanofPDF.com

The Life of Rahu

S age Durvasa made his way rapidly through the dense forest. The cool

zephyr caressed his body, making light of his tedious journey. Suddenly, an

exotic fragrance wafted to him on the gentle breeze. Durvasa unconsciously

slowed his pace, inhaling the sweet perfume which delighted his senses. It

pervaded his being and banished all fatigue from his body. The sage

stopped, the better to savour the scent.

His eyes widened in surprise as he perceived a beautiful woman coming

towards him on the narrow track. It was soon evident that the divine

fragrance which enveloped him emanated from her. Durvasa watched in

fascination as the damsel approached - her fluid movements transformed

her walk into a graceful dance. The sage was now aware of the stranger's

identity: it was Menaka, one of the lovely apsaras from Indra's court.

Menaka came to stand before Durvasa and saluted the sage respectfully. He

noted the source of the captivating fragrance which had heralded her

approach: her shapely hands held a garland of divine blossoms.

"May happiness be yours, Menaka!" Durvasa held his right palm in

benediction over her bowed head. He continued: "Menaka, I am captivated

by the garland in your hand. I wish to have it." His words were not couched

in the form of a request – they connoted an obvious command.

"I am indeed fortunate that my handiwork pleases you, Swami," Menaka

meekly acceded to his demand and held out the fragrant garland. "Please

accept this as my humble offering. It has been woven with the divine

blossoms from the Nandana garden."

Durvasa took the garland from her impassively and said, "You may proceed

on your way, Menaka."

The apsara folded her hands in reverence, moved aside and continued on

her path.

Sage Durvasa, garland in hand, resumed his own journey.

Airavata, Indra's royal mount, walked sedately along the broad avenues of

Amaravati, capital of the devas. The elephant resembled a towering

cumulus cloud, sprouting four massive tusks. Indra rode majestically at the

head of a procession witnessed by all the denizens of Swarga. The apsaras

danced in the forefront, accompanied by the music of the gandharvas ,

while the devas lined the avenues, hailing their king.

Sage Durvasa roughly pushed his way through the spectators and came to

stand at a vantage point which offered him an unhindered view of the

procession. The king of the gods, smiling impartially at the onlookers, felt

the unmistakable pull of a powerful gaze: his eyes came to rest on Durvasa.

Indra immediately signaled to Airavata, who came to a halt.

Indra bowed humbly and folded his hands in reverence towards the sage.

Pleased with Indra's show of respect, Durvasa flung his garland up at the

king. Indra reflexively caught it, touched it to his eyes in devout acceptance

and conspicuously inhaled its fragrance. He bowed again to the sage as a

mark of gratitude, casually placed the garland on Airavata's forehead, and

proceeded on his way.

The constant shift and slide of the garland disturbed the royal elephant.

Exasperated by this irritant on its forehead, the animal suddenly grabbed the

garland, dashed it to the ground and stomped on it with its foot – the

delicate flowers were trampled to a pulp!

Sage Durvasa erupted into a frenzy of rage at this sight. "Indra!" he

thundered. "Stop right there!"

Indra froze to a halt and stared at Durvasa in alarm.

"Indra, you insolent fool! Your overweening pride in your kingship has

made you arrogant. You have dared to belittle the gift which I bestowed on

you as a mark of my special blessing. You have humiliated me: you will

now reap the consequences of your behavior!"

The sage drew himself up to his full height and shouted: "Hear me, Indra:

May the grandeur of Swarga vanish without a trace! May all your trappings

of royalty – your elephant, Airavata, your noble stallion, Uchchaisrava, the

heavenly cow, Kaamadhenu, the Kalpavrksha, the precious Chintamani,

your apsaras – may they all be swallowed by the seas! This is the

immutable curse of Durvasa!" Durvasa's malediction reverberated like a

thunderclap in the skies.

The sage abruptly turned away from the horrified spectators and stalked off

in a huff. The shaken Indra jumped down from his mount and hurried after

the sage. He prostrated himself before Durvasa and placed his palms on the

sage's feet in abject supplication.

"Maharshi,” Indra lamented. "This unfortunate incident was a pure

accident. Placing the garland on Airavata's head was merely a reflex on my

part. I beg you to believe me: I would not dream of dishonoring the

renowned Durvasa in any way!" He pleaded with the sage. "I implore you,

Bhagavan: kindly revoke your curse and bless my kingdom."

Durvasa remained unmoved by Indra's humility and protestations of

innocence. The sage glared balefully at the king of the devas and declared:

"The curse is immutable: it was pronounced by none other than Sage

Durvasa! Bear in mind, Indra – revoking a curse is contrary to my very

nature!" The sage's lips curled in contempt. "You pompously call yourself

Indra … Devendra … Mahendra … Let's see who you are now!"

Durvasa stalked off in high dudgeon, leaving the hapless Indra shuddering

in stark terror. The procession came to a standstill. A pall of gloom

descended on Swarga. Durvasa's curse immediately held sway over Indra's

domain. Before the eyes of the aghast gods, Airavata, Uchchaisrava,

Kaamadhenu, Kalpavrksha, Chintamani, the apsaras – all the treasure of

heaven – vanished into thin air. Indra, denuded of all his power, was now

just one among the lesser gods.

News of the disaster which had befallen Indra soon reached Bali, the king

of the asuras. On the advice of their preceptor, the gleeful rakshasa army

marched on Swarga and routed the impotent devas . The triumphant Bali

declared his sovereignty over the kingdom of heaven.

Nirvikalpananda stopped his narration at the bewildered frowns on his

disciples' faces.

Vimalananda was the first with his question. "Master, you said that

Vrshaparva was the king of the asuras … now you refer to Bali as their

king."

Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "The action in our tale of the

Navagrahas encompasses a tremendous period of time. We have moved

from King Vrshaparva's reign to that of King Bali! Both Vrshaparva and

Bali were Kasyapa's descendants."

The master elaborated: "Who was Vrshaparva? He was the son of

Danudevi, one of Kasyapa prajapati ’s thirteen wives. You will recall Diti,

another of Kasyapa's wives: her son, Hiranya Kasyapa, was the father of

Prahlada. Bali was born to Virochana, Prahlada's son. This makes King Bali

the grandson of Prahlada, the renowned Vishnu devotee.

"Sukra continued to be the preceptor of successive generations of asuras .

The life of Rahu was contemporaneous with Bali's reign over the rakshasas.

He paused for a moment. "Now, let us pick up the threads of our original

story!

"Sage Durvasa's curse reduced Indra and his deva clan into abject paupers:

they became nomads, without shelter or any means of sustenance. On the

contrary, the asuras flourished and grew from strength to strength. Pushed

to the end of his endurance, the hapless Indra, accompanied by Brhaspati,

sought Brahma's intercession. Indra described the deva s' sorry plight and

implored Brahma to restore them to their former wealth and glory."

Nirvikapananda was once again in the thick of his narrative …

Brahma heaved a sigh of regret on hearing Indra's recital of the deva s'

woes.

"Sage Durvasa's curses spread like wildfire: I do not have the power to

check their relentless advance. Let us seek refuge at the feet of my father,

Sri Mahavishnu. Come!" Brahma exhorted his anxious supplicants.

Lord Vishnu listened in silence to Indra and Brhaspati.

"Father," Brahma added his voice to their entreaty, ‘Aditi's sons are in a

pitiable state. It is you alone who can restore them to their former glory."

Lord Vishnu remarked, "As a consequence of Durvasa's binding curse, all

Swarga’s riches and treasure lies at the bottom of the ocean! Even if you

succeed in retrieving your lost wealth, it is obvious that the asuras , under

the leadership of mighty King Bali, will once again snatch it from you. The

devas are powerless in the face of the Mrtasanjeevani, which the asuras

alone possess."

The forlorn Indra looked up at the Lord in silent entreaty.

"Indra," Lord Vishnu continued, "the Mrtasanjeevani restores the dead to

life … there is one power which equals that of this redoubtable mantra:

amrita.” He paused for emphasis. ‘Anyone who drinks the divine amrita

will attain immortality."

“Bhagavan,” Indra asked eagerly, "from where can we obtain this amrita ?"

Lord Vishnu smiled serenely. "It lies in the bowels of the Ocean of Milk.

You must churn the ocean to retrieve the lost Airavata, Uchchaisrava,

Kaamadhenu, Chintamani, Kalpavrksha, apsaras and other treasures of

Swarga. Your labour will also gain you the divine nectar – the amrita will

strengthen you and banish death from your bodies."

"We are indeed blessed, Bhagavan!” Indra was animated by renewed hope

and enthusiasm. "I shall immediately make all preparations for the churning

of the Ocean of Milk."

"Indra," Lord Vishnu cautioned, "the gods alone cannot muster the strength

needed for this formidable task – it can be executed only by the combined

might of the devas and the asuras.” He continued thoughtfully. "You will

have to make the Mandara Mountain your churning–staff. The Mandara's

summit rears to a height of eleven thousand yojanas above the earth's

surface – it burrows into the bowels of the earth for another eleven thousand

yojanas. The mountain, in its entirety of twenty–two thousand yojanas ,

must be uprooted and carried to the shores of the Ocean of Milk. This

grueling feat would be impossible for the devas without the asuras’

support."

Lord Vishnu paused to look at his attentive listeners. "The serpent king,

Vasuki, may be used as the churning–rope. Preliminary to the churning, it is

essential that vast quantities of creepers, herbs, and roots with medicinal

properties, be thrown into the ocean depths."

Brhaspati remarked thoughtfully, "It is evident that the churning of the

ocean will be no easy task!"

Vishnu nodded in agreement. "Indra, arrange a meeting with King Bali and

lay before him your proposal for the joint venture. You must make him an

offer which is so attractive that the asuras cannot possibly turn it down." He

suggested, "Give King Bali your word that you will give the rakshasas half

of the amrita obtained from the ocean. This should be sufficient to motivate

Bali into accepting your proposition."

"But …." Indra was aghast. "Bhagavan! The priceless Mrtasanjeevani is

already a part of their armour – if we give them a share of the amrita as

well, they will be completely immune to defeat and death!"

Lord Vishnu chuckled. "Partnering you in your task of churning the ocean,

and obtaining the divine ambrosia, is the duty of your cousins, the asuras ."

He paused – there was a twinkle in eyes. "However, distributing the amrita

among the deserving will be my particular duty!" He urged Indra on his

way. "Go to Bali and lay your proposal before him, Indra!" he commanded.

Brahma, Brhaspati and Indra bowed in gratitude before Vishnu and made

their departure

King Bali welcomed Brhaspati and Indra to Swarga and indicated his

willingness to give them a hearing.

Indra lost no time in launching into his presentation. "Bali, we have heard

from Lord Vishnu that amrita – the divine nectar of immortality, lies

submerged in the depths of the ocean. We devas plan to churn the Ocean of

Milk to obtain the ambrosia and conquer death for all eternity. The mighty

Mandara Mountain is to be the churning–staff and the serpent, Vasuki, will

serve as the rope. However, this is a task of such a gargantuan magnitude

that it cannot be accomplished by us alone." He paused and locked eyes

with the asura king. "It is patently clear that neither the devas nor the

asuras can lay their hands on the amrita without the others' assistance. I

have a proposal for you: Join hands with us in our venture and we will give

you one half of the amrita as your share of the prize."

King Bali mulled over Indra's words.

As he hesitated, Indra added persuasively: "Come now, Bali – we are not

strangers to each other. When all's said and done, we – the aadityas,

daityas, daanavas, kalakeyas and others – are the descendants of sisters. We

come from common stock. Why then must aggression be our knee– jerk

reaction to each other? It may be impossible for us to live together amicably

as one family: but, surely, we can unite to scale the heights of adventure to

our mutual advantage!"

Brhaspati reinforced Indra's argument: "King Bali, it is eminently fitting

that the devas and asuras, both descendants of Kasyapa prajapati, work

together for their common benefit." Brhaspati turned confidently to his

counterpart, Sukra. "I am sure that the eminent asura–guru, Sukracharya,

agrees with me on this."

Sukra smiled and nodded in approval. "Mahabali, Indra's proposal is very

reasonable and promises to be of definite advantage to us. On the condition

that the asuras receive one half of the amrita , I think we can agree to this."

Bali bowed to the two gurus . "When the preceptors of the devas and the

asuras are of one mind, who am I to differ?! Indra and I bow to your

counsel." He turned to Indra and said: "I accept your proposal."

The preceptors extended their hands in benediction over the two kings.

"May victory be yours!" said Brhaspati.

"So be it!" echoed Sukra.

Bali and Indra sealed their pact with a warm embrace. Brhaspati and Sukra,

in their turn, emulated their kings.

Bali informed the asuras of his pact with the devas. His subjects were

divided as to the wisdom of the coming joint venture.

An elderly rakshasa, bent with age, voiced the opinion of the dissenters:

"Now that we are acquainted with the means of obtaining the amrita , why

do we need to accommodate the aadityas ? Let us churn the ocean on our

own and secure the nectar. It is best to have no truck with those devious

gods."

Another senior asura seconded his comrade. "Bali, think it over: if we

obtain the amrita independently of the devas , it will give us a unilateral

advantage over the gods – combined with the Mrtasanjeevani, we will never

taste defeat again. We will become the immortal masters of the three worlds

for all eternity."

King Bali dismissed their scheming with a loud laugh of derision. "Both of

you are mature in years – but not in mind! It is unethical to kill those who

reach out to us for succor." His voice was firm. "We will contribute equally

to the churning .… and we will receive an equal share of the amrita !"

Preparations for the churning of the Ocean of Milk commenced on a war–

footing. The devas and the asuras busied themselves with the various tasks

assigned to them. At the supplication of the two clans, Adisesha lifted the

Mandara Mountain and transported it to the shore of the ocean on his

mighty coils.

Indra, accompanied by Bali, Brhaspati and Sukra led a delegation to Vasuki,

the serpent king. They requested the serpent to serve as their churning–rope,

promising to give him a share of the amrita as his reward.

Vasuki smiled at Indra in agreement. ‘After all, I am the eldest son of

Kadru, your mother's own sister – this makes you my brother." He turned to

the asura king. "And who is Bali? He is my grandson. It will be my

pleasure to assist you both in the churning of the ocean!"

To Kasyapa's surprise, Rahu and Ketu came running pell-mell toward the

hermitage. They came to a stop before him, excitement writ large on their

faces.

"Father," Rahu burst into speech. "I have great tidings! The devas and the

asuras have formed a pact: they plan to collaborate in the churning of the

Ocean of Milk in order to obtain amrita !"

"Churning of the Ocean of Milk?!" Kasyapa exclaimed in astonishment.

"For amrita ?"

"Yes, father," Ketu reiterated eagerly. "Indra met our King Bali and sought

his assistance. They plan to use the Mandara Mountain as the churning-

staff. And I heard that amrita is a medicine which will make us immortal!"

"We have decided to follow the asura army in this venture, father," Rahu

declared.

"My sons, do not rush recklessly into adventure. There is no need to crave

this amrita. Remain here and savour the delights of a tranquil life."

"And what is your objection to my son gaining immortality?"

Kasyapa looked up in astonishment at the sarcastic words – Simhika stood

over him, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Simhika …!"

"Rahu and Ketu: you do need to beg anybody for their permission to drink

the divine amrita !"

Danudevi's lips curled in contempt as she came to stand in solidarity beside

Simhika. She urged the duo: "Go ahead, my sons!"

Rahu and Ketu, smiling proudly, left on their eager quest.

On the shore of the Ocean of Milk, the serpent king, Vasuki, coiled himself

around the Mandara Mountain: the churning-rod and rope were ready. The

devas picked up Vasuki's head and lined up against his front torso.

The asuras immediately protested: "Why should we belittle ourselves by

carrying the snake's hind quarters?!"

The gods peaceably bowed to their demand and moved to Vasuki's tail,

leaving the asura’s to hold the snake's head.

The gods and the asuras commenced to pull the serpent-rope back and

forth, churning the waters of the ocean. However, the mammoth Mandara

Mountain, lacking equilibrium, began to sink into the ocean bed.

Lord Vishnu immediately assumed the form of a giant turtle and dived into

the ocean. He supported the mountain on his broad back, measuring an

incredible one lakh yojanas in width. The prodigious churning of the ocean

now proceeded unhindered, with the devas and asuras working

enthusiastically in tandem.

Suddenly, dense, toxic fumes rose from the water, emitting angry sparks: it

was the dreadful poison, Haalaahala. In abject terror, the devas and asuras

dropped the churning-rope and ran helter-skelter in panic. On Brahma's

advice, the gods implored Lord Shiva to come to their aid and shield the

worlds from this poisonous deluge.

Lord Shiva instantaneously appeared on the scene. The Lord extended his

right hand, adorned with the serpent-bracelet, over the ocean and intoned

the syllable Hum. As the profound vibrations of Lord Shiva's Humkaara

resonated over the three worlds, the sinister spread of the poison was

dammed. The liquid toxin solidified into a vaporous, dark cloud, which

quickly metamorphosed into a black elephant. This is turn rapidly assumed

the smaller form of a boar and then, a jet-black cuckoo. Finally, the toxic

Haalaahala was reduced to the form of a tiny rose- apple, glowing on Lord

Shiva's palm.

Shiva – Lord Vaidyanath, the Master of Medicine, swallowed the rose-

apple with a serene smile, and immobilized it in his gullet. The globule of

poison gleamed like a blue diamond under the translucent, white skin of his

throat.

A murmur of awe rippled through the gathered company, which broke into

spontaneous chants of "Nilakantha!" "Nilakantha!" glorifying Lord Shiva's

feat with a new name. The Blue-Throated One serenely accepted their

homage and advised the devas and asuras to resume their interrupted

churning of the Ocean of Milk.

The venture continued rapidly under the deafening roar of the agitated

water, which drenched the participants in a cascading spray.

Eventually, a woman emerged from the ocean. The curious spectators were

instantly repulsed by her hideous demeanour: red eyes protruded from a

black-complexioned, ugly face; her smile was a grimace and her coarse

laughter grated on their ears. In one accord, the devas and asuras turned

away from the stranger in patent revulsion.

The woman approached the Trimurti, who stood overseeing the churning of

the Ocean of Milk. Unable to stand the sight of the repugnant woman, the

three Gods, in their turn, averted their eyes. However, the hapless Brahma,

with his four faces, was forced to endure her in his view.

"Who am I?" the woman questioned the Holy Trinity. "What is my

purpose?"

Lord Shiva and Brahma turned to Lord Vishnu, deferring to him.

Taking the initiative, Lord Vishnu said: "As you are the first to emerge from

the ocean, you are Jyeshtha – the eldest. You will henceforth be known as

Jyeshthadevi. It is evident that you are the embodiment of ill-omened traits:

as such, you will also be known as Alakshmi and Moodevi."

"Jyeshthadevi … Alakshmi … Moodevi … " Jyeshtha grimaced in hideous

satisfaction. "And where is my dwelling place?"

‘As you are the goddess of inauspiciousness, you will be found in all bleak

places where misfortune and adversity reign." Lord Vishnu gestured to her

in curt dismissal. "Go and take up your abode in all such places!"

To the relief of all present, Jyeshtha moved silently away, her distorted body

fading into the distance.

After another period of prolonged churning, an eight-petalled lotus in full

bloom floated up from the surface of the ocean, holding Sri Mahalakshmi

tenderly in its folds. All the devas and asuras bowed reverentially in

instinctive response to her exquisite, ethereal beauty. Mahalakshmi gazed at

Vishnu with her limpid, lotus-petal-like eyes. Lord Vishnu, exhilarated by

this exquisite apparition, held out his arms and received her into his

embrace.

A crescent moon now rose from the agitated waters and hovered in the air.

Lord Shiva, burning with the toxic fire of the Haalaahala which he had

ingested and arrested in his throat, picked the silver arc and placed it on his

matted locks. From there, the crescent moon shed its cool light on the Lord.

Next came the precious gem, Kaustubha, which Lord Vishnu accepted to

adorn his sacred chest.

This was followed in quick succession by the divine flowering plant, the

parijatha, Uchchaisrava, Airavata, Kamadhenu, Kalpavrksha and all the

other heavenly objects. Indra received the apsaras who next emerged from

the ocean and gladly took possession of all his former wealth, ejected from

Swarga by Durvasa's malediction.

Enthused by the bounty pouring from the Ocean of Milk, the gods and

demons threw themselves into their churning with renewed vigor.

Soon, a divine individual emerged from the ocean. His red eyes gleamed

from his blue-complexioned face, framed by lustrous, black tresses. His

radiant chest was adorned with a myriad gold ornaments. His hands

reverentially carried a kalasa . This was Dhanvantari, bearing the pot of

divine amrita . Dhanvantari walked sedately towards the shore, stepping

softly on the tides. He reached the shore, to the dignified applause of the

watching devas .

Suddenly, an asura rushed to intercept him, snatched the precious pot from

his hands and took to his heels. A second asura set out in hot pursuit,

jumped on his fleeing comrade, and forcibly relieved him of the kalasa .

The demon with the prize himself became the victim of attack by yet

another covetous rakshasa . The pot of nectar changed hands in quick

succession as the demons fought recklessly over it.

Indra and his company of devas were aghast at the turn of events. They

watched in consternation as the asuras’ fight deteriorated into a free-for-all.

The anxious gods tuned to Lord Vishnu for guidance. Lord Vishnu placated

them with a reassuring smile.

Before their astonished eyes, he transformed himself into Mohini – a

damsel of extraordinary beauty. The gods were spellbound by her charm:

momentarily, it even slipped their minds that this lovely damsel was none

other than Lord Vishnu!

On their part, the asuras stared entranced at Mohini's captivating grace: to

them, she was the very embodiment of all things beautiful. The sight of the

lovely damsel was enough to banish all thoughts of the amrita from their

minds. Lord Vishnu's mesmerizing charm engulfed the asuras’ psyche like

a thick fog shrouding the landscape.

The demon who currently held the pot of amrita meekly approached

Mohini with an obsequious smile. "It is obvious that you are here solely to

look out for our welfare," he said ingratiatingly. "We are all great warriors,

descended from the celebrated lineage of Sage Kasyapa prajapati. We have

obtained the amrita by churning the Ocean of Milk. And now, we have been

reduced to fighting among ourselves over our share of the spoils." He

bowed to her. "We are captivated by your beauty and seek your help. Will

you be kind enough to distribute the amrita among us?"

Mohini took in the nodding faces of the encircling crowd of demons, who

chorused: "Yes, this beauty is the one who deserves the honour of

distributing the nectar of immortality!"

Mohini darted a coquettish look at the excited asuras milling around her

and said sweetly: "As a woman, I cannot show any partiality in the serving

of food. The devas and the asuras are equal in my sight. I am aware that

both of you are descendants of Kasyapa prajapati. You have also shared in

the prodigious labour of churning the ocean. I will distribute the amrita

among all of you."

She went on to bestow a ravishing smile on the demons and cajoled them

into an orderly file. Seduced by her charm, the asuras acceded to her

proposal and docilely seated themselves in a row. They graciously

beckoned the gods to come forward and sit in a parallel row.

Letting her upper garment fall sensuously from her shoulder in apparent

carelessness, Mohini took the pot of nectar from the hands of the compliant

asura . Completely bewitched by her seductive grace, the demons drank in

her beauty with hungry eyes – while the discerning gods drank the amrita

she surreptitiously served them!

However, Rahu and Ketu were not taken in by Mohini's devious charade.

Their keen eyes saw Mohini dispensing the nectar of immortality to the

gods. Rahu bent his head and whispered suggestively to Ketu, who sat

beside him. In a twinkling, the duo assumed the guise of devas and

stealthily joined the row of gods. Their transformation passed unnoticed,

escaping the attention of both gods and demons and of Mohini, preoccupied

with the distribution of the amrita. However, Surya and Chandra, more

perceptive than their comrades, spotted the clever machinations of the two

asuras and alerted Mohini.

Lord Vishnu immediately resumed his true form and beheaded Rahu and

Ketu with his Sudarshana chakra. However, by the time the whirling golden

discus reached them, the nectar consumed by the asuras had passed into

their throats. Consequently, their heads remained alive – even when

separated from their lifeless torsos.

The scales fell from the asuras’ eyes. Aware that they had been cheated,

they went on the rampage and attacked the devas . A terrible battle ensued,

in which the demons suffered heavy casualties. Securing the pot of amrita ,

the gods, under Indra, triumphantly returned to Swarga with their recovered

wealth and treasure.

Sukra invoked the Mrtasanjeevani to bring the dead asuras back to life.

King Bali gathered his dejected subjects and returned to his own asura

kingdom with a heavy heart.

Rahu and Ketu made their way back to the hermitage, minus their bodies.

Kasyapa and his wives were aghast at the sight of Rahu and Ketu's arrival

in the form of talking heads.

Rahu elaborated on the course of events which had resulted in their sorry

plight. His mother, Simhika, and Danudevi, Ketu's foster mother, burst into

loud lamentation, while their wives, Simhi and Chitralekha, gave way to a

paroxysm of sobs. The women could not digest the fact that Rahu and Ketu

had irrevocably lost their torsos. Kasyapa, Aditi, Diti and the others in the

family tried in vain to comfort the grief-stricken women.

Rahu's only son, Meghahasa, flew into a towering rage at the misfortune

which had befallen his father and uncle.

Kasyapa attempted to placate him: "Meghahasa, this is the will of the

Supreme God. Lord Vishnu ordains the unfolding of every development in

the three worlds. It must be conceded that Rahu and Ketu were at fault: like

everyone else, they should have awaited their turn to receive the amrita . It

was their rash behavior which led to their doom."

Diti glared accusingly at her husband. "To hear you talk, one would think

that you are the father of Aditi's children alone! Supported by Vishnu,

Aditi's sons constantly slaughter my sons, along with the sons of Danu and

my other sisters." She lashed out furiously at Kasyapa. ‘After all, Rahu and

Ketu are Surya's cousins through his mother: was he not at fault in

implicating them?"

"Yes," Danu added her angry criticism, "It was Surya and Chandra who

were instrumental in Vishnu's beheading of Rahu and Ketu!"

"Tell me – who is to take care of Simhi and Chitralekha?" Simhika

upbraided Kasyapa. "How will they live with husbands who do not have

torsos?"

At these words, Simhi and Chitralekha burst into a fresh bout of weeping.

"My dear mothers, do not abandon yourselves to despair – dry your tears."

Meghahasa straightened his shoulders in determination and looked into his

mother, Simhi's eyes. "Mother, I, Meghahasa, Rahu's son, am very much

alive. Furthermore, I still have a torso with a head attached to it! I will not

close my eyes in slumber until I restore their bodies to my father and

uncle!"

"Meghahasa …" Rahu was dumbstruck, his eyes brimming with tears of

pride and happiness.

"Megha," Ketu exclaimed, "your words give me renewed hope!"

"I will perform penance to propitiate Lord Shiva of Kailash!" Meghahasa

declared. "I will implore him to restore your bodies to you." Meghahasa

hurried from the ashram on his urgent quest.

Simhidevi and Chitralekha tenderly gathered their husbands' heads, which

were suspended in the air, and pressed them to their breasts.

Meghahasa commenced his penance. On hearing about this development

through Sage Narada, the anxious Indra sought Brhaspati's advice.

"Master," Indra said, "Lord Vishnu beheaded Rahu and Ketu as punishment

for disguising themselves as devas."

"Yes, Mahendra," agreed Brhaspati. "That is something which is widely

known."

"Sage Narada now informs me that Meghahasa, Rahu's son, is engaged in

penance to bring about the restoration of their torsos." He paused. "I say we

disrupt his tapas before it is too late. What do you think, gurudev ?"

"Indra, the entire clan of asuras remains our arch-enemy – and all of them

have their complete bodies. In the event of Rahu and Ketu regaining their

lost bodies, this will in no way enhance the threat they pose to the devas."

Brhaspati smiled reassuringly at the king of the gods. "By all means, let

Rahu and Ketu become whole again: it will not affect us in any way!"

Indra heaved a sigh of relief. "In that case, I find Meghahasa's tapas

admirable!"

Meghahasa's penance grew in intensity until the extraordinary heat

generated by it compelled Lord Shiva to grant him his darshan .

"My boy," Shiva asked, "what do you desire from me?"

"Bhagavan , kindly restore to my father, Rahu, and his brother, Ketu, the

bodies which were sundered by Vishnu." Meghahasa folded his hands in

supplication. "Also grant them power which surpasses the might of Surya

and Chandra, who were instrumental in their decapitation and subsequent

misery."

"Meghahasa," said Lord Shiva, "it is impossible to restore Rahu and Ketu's

torsos, which were severed by Sri Mahavishnu with his Sudarsana chakra.”

He paused. "However, I will make an amendment to ameliorate their

present condition: in the eyes of all onlookers, Rahu and Ketu will appear to

be whole."

"I am indeed blessed!" exclaimed Meghahasa in delight.

‘As for your second wish," continued Shiva, "I grant it in its entirety."

Lord Shiva raised his hand in benediction and disappeared.

Rahu and Ketu's wives, Simhidevi and Chitraleka, erupted into happiness at

the sight of their husbands entering the hermitage with their heads once

again appended to their bodies.

"My son has succeeded in his penance!" Simhika said proudly, eyes

brimming with tears of joy.

"Sister, Meghahasa is my son, too!" exclaimed Chitralekha, wiping her tear-

streaked face. "My husband and I are indebted to him for eternity!"

Meghahasa returned to the hermitage to bask in his happiness at the sight of

Rahu and Ketu with their whole bodies.

"Father … Uncle …" he said in triumph. "Lord Shiva has granted you both

the potential to surpass the might of Surya and Chandra. He has also

ordained that you will soon attain a status equal to theirs!"

"Son, your tidings gladden my heart!" exclaimed Rahu. His eyes darkened.

"We will avenge ourselves on Surya and Chandra for the wrong done to us:

this will make the boon you obtained on our behalf truly meaningful."

Rahu and Ketu sat on the banks of the river watching the rays of the setting

sun paint the sky in vibrant hues of purple and gold. They remained

oblivious to the beauty lavished on them. Rahu's eyes were hard and his

flushed face mirrored the fire of vengeance which consumed his soul.

"Ketu," he said in cold determination. "It is time to wreak our vengeance on

Surya."

"Brother, what can we do?" Ketu asked.

"Lord Shiva has granted us manifold powers. We will use them to make

Surya invisible to the worlds – and the worlds invisible to him!" He

continued angrily. "He prevented us from swallowing the amrita : now, we

will swallow him!"

"That would be befitting punishment, indeed!" Ketu applauded.

The sun sank into the horizon and darkness blanketed the three worlds.

Rahu and Ketu remained silent, engrossed in schemes to satisfy their

burning desire for revenge.

"Brother …" Ketu said hesitantly. "Is it possible for us to consume and

digest Surya?"

Rahu shook his head vehemently. "Digesting him would be irrevocable: that

is not sufficient punishment for him. He must undergo continuous torment!"

His eyes gleamed in hatred. "Surya flaunts his power only during the

daytime – that is when we must bring him to his knees! We will swallow

him during the day and vomit him at night!"

"Bravo! What a wonderful plan!" Ketu jumped up in enthusiasm. "That

would indeed be suitable punishment for Surya." He pointed to the rising

moon in the west. ‘And what about Chandra?" he asked.

"We will deal with him in the same way: we will wreak vengeance on them

by swallowing Surya by day and Chandra by night!"

"Great! We will demonstrate our combined might by taking chances in

swallowing them," Ketu said defiantly.

"I will swallow Surya: Chandra is yours!" Rahu stood up determinedly.

Ketu looked up at the moon and gnashed his teeth. "Surya and Chandra will

endure eternal torment: we will teach them a fitting lesson for the injustice

meted out to us!" "

They will suffer agonies in our abdomens!" Rahu declared in smug menace.

Sage Kasyapa, in the midst of his morning ablutions at the river, looked up

in surprise at the sky – there was a definite decrease in the sun's radiance!

He kept his fascinated eyes glued to the sun as an extraordinary scene

unfolded before him …

A dim patch appeared on one edge of the golden orb. The dark silhouette

spread inexorably over the sun's surface and engulfed it in its entirety. The

sun was now completely masked by a black disc. The rising sun had

vanished, taking with it its heat and light!

Kasyapa, completely at sea as to this abnormal phenomenon, walked

rapidly back to his hermitage in the unnatural darkness.

The unexplained, abrupt disappearance of the rising sun threw the three

worlds into premature darkness. Time came to a standstill, with routines in

shambles and nature herself coming to a confused halt. The lotuses which

unfolded in response to the warmth of the sun's gentle rays shrunk and

wilted.

Kasyapa's hermitage was in an uproar, as the sun's disappearance was

excitedly discussed.

Simhika, Danu, Simhidevi and Chitralekha soon recovered from their initial

shock. Once Ketu explained the cause of Surya's absence from the daytime

sky, they exulted in Rahu's triumph over his nemesis.

Aditi, overhearing their excited talk, rushed to Kasyapa to report that Rahu

had swallowed Surya in vindictive fury. Aditi, eyes brimming with tears,

implored her husband to go to Surya's aid.

Kasyapa heaved a sigh of regret. ‘Aditi," he said, "What you ask of me is

beyond my power." His pitying eyes reflected his helplessness. "This

disastrous state of affairs will not be confined to one day: Rahu and Ketu

will persist in their vendetta. Remember, they possess the inherent tamasic

qualities of rakshasas: as such, they will not give up their aggressive

tactics."

"Do you mean to say that nothing can be done while the one who bestows

life-giving heat and light to the worlds is … "

Kasyapa hushed her indignant outburst with a conciliatory smile and said,

"Aditi, the Supreme God, Vishnu, who blessed you with Surya, will deal

with this – let us leave matters in his eminently capable hands!"

As night fell, Rahu released Surya from his confinement. Surya emerged,

disoriented and drowsy.

Rahu looked at Surya in gloating triumph and crowed: "You made Vishnu

decapitate us with his discus once – just once!" Rahu laughed harshly. "But

our vengeance will inflict unrelenting torment on you. Rahu and Ketu will

punish you through all eternity!"

Compressed in the dark recesses of Rahu's abdomen all day, Surya was now

debilitated and completely depleted of energy. His crushed body screamed

out in agony at the unprecedented, cruel punishment it had endured. He

deduced the primary reason for his alarming condition: his body had been

ravaged by the contaminated saliva in Rahu's mouth. His sense of

humiliation and outrage added salt to his wounds.

Samjna rushed to meet him as he entered his palace. "Swami!" she cried out

anxiously. "What ill has befallen you? Why was it dark during the day?

What is the meaning of this?"

"Samjna," replied Surya wearily. "You know that I pointed out Rahu and

Ketu to Lord Vishnu when they attempted to obtain the amrita in the guise

of devas . It appears that they have been nursing a deep resentment against

me." He continued with a wry smile. "Rahu has warned me that today was

but the first day of his revenge – he will persist in swallowing me every

day!"

"Swami!" Samjna gasped in alarm. "Do they truly possess such power?"

"Yes, they do," Surya was forced to concede. "Rahu proved it by

swallowing me today."

"But, Swami …" Samjna was distraught. "What will happen to you if they

repeatedly swallow you as they threaten to do?"

Surya shook off his lethargy and straightened his shoulders. "They will not

succeed, Samjna." His voice was resolute. "Today, Rahu demonstrated his

might – tomorrow I, Surya, will demonstrate mine!"

The next morning, the sun rose in sedate glory. Rahu, concealed behind a

bank of clouds, burst out of hiding and gave a bark of sarcastic laughter. His

cavernous mouth yawned open to reveal terrifying rows of vicious teeth.

His moist red tongue seemed to be dripping blood.

"Surya!" Rahu taunted. "What an auspicious morning! Come, it is time for

you to enjoy your usual repose in the cool darkness of my stomach!" Rahu

approached Surya with his mouth open wide.

Suddenly, the sun's core underwent a dramatic transformation. Phenomenal

heat radiated outwards to the corona – the sun was now a raging ball of

fury. Tongues of flame streaked out to lash the atmosphere. In the twinkling

of an eye, the east became an ocean of fire.

Rahu's headlong rush towards Surya grinded to an abrupt halt. The blast of

the inferno hit him head-on. The acrid odour of his own singed hair

assaulted his nostrils. He hung in the air, frozen in terror, unable to believe

the evidence of his eyes.

The ball of fire grew redder by the moment. The outraged Surya erupted

into a frenzy of hot rage, hurling heatwaves in every direction. Rahu felt

himself being engulfed by the fiery tides and pulled relentlessly towards the

heart of the inferno. Breaking into a sweat of panic, Rahu, fearing that he

would be reduced to ashes if he lingered, turned tail and fled to safety.

"Come on, Rahu! The day remains auspicious: come and swallow me!"

Surya taunted the asura. "Let us see your vengeance!"

Surya's loud, mocking laughter followed Rahu as the asura made his

ignominious retreat.

Surya, wearing his intense heat as a protective armour against Rahu's

depredation, sedately continued on his routine diurnal journey, beaming in

triumph.

However, the abnormally high temperature, which fended off Rahu, also

ravaged the entire cosmos. The waters of the oceans and rivers evaporated

in the shimmering heat. Rocks, and the exposed mountains themselves,

developed cracks and splintered in self-combustion. Surya's rampant fury

brought the universe to the brink of fiery catastrophe.

Indra and Brhaspati were bewildered by the strange absence of Surya one

day, and the alarming magnification of his heat on the next. As they

struggled in vain to comprehend the reasons for these dangerous

developments, they heard the chant: "Narayana!"

They turned with eager relief to Sage Narada who explained: "Rahu has

been nursing a grudge against Surya right from the day of his decapitation

by Lord Vishnu for attempting to obtain the amrita in disguise. In revenge,

Rahu swallowed Surya, shrouding the worlds in darkness. Surya, having

experienced a day's agony in the confines of Rahu's stomach, has now

transformed himself into a fiery ball to repel the asura’s attacks."

"What about the dangerous repercussions of this feud on all living beings in

the three worlds?" Indra asked in agitation. "What will happen?"

"Narayana!" exclaimed Narada in helpless chagrin. "That is a question you

must direct to my father, Brahma!"

Indra rose hurriedly to his feet saying, "Gurudev, there is no time to be lost:

let us go!"

In urgent tones, Indra gave Brahma his account of the catastrophe facing the

worlds as a result of Surya's defensive reaction to Rahu's offensive.

"Sage Narada advised us to seek your aid, your eminence," Brhaspati

added.

"Hmm …" Brahma mulled over the circumstances. "We seem to be caught

on the horns of a dilemma: if Surya reduces his intensity to normal levels,

he faces the risk of being swallowed by Rahu yet again; on the other hand,

if he maintains his protective stance, the animate and inanimate worlds are

in danger of annihilation." Brahma heaved a sigh. "This is beyond me – I

can see no way out of this predicament!"

The Creator came to a quick decision: "Our only option is to seek Sri

Mahavishnu's intercession."

Indra bowed in acceptance of this proposal. "We will go at once to Sri Hari,

Bhagavan.”

"Mahendra," Brahma said. "This is a very grave situation. I will accompany

you."

Lord Vishnu gave the delegation a patient hearing. He smiled serenely and

said: "If Surya does not reduce the intensity of his heat, the worlds and their

inhabitants are in danger . if he does decrease his temperature, he himself is

in danger– Under these circumstances, Surya has no choice but to maintain

his fiery form. At the same time, the three worlds must be shielded from the

intolerable radiation. This calls for a force to be permanently deployed in

front of Surya in order to filter the heat emitted by him and reduce it to

bearable levels."

"Father," said Brahma humbly. "You alone can tell us where such a

powerful shield can be found."

"Bhagavan, what is that force?" Indra asked eagerly.

Lord Vishnu's eyes twinkled. "Not 'what,' Indra, but 'who': ask me 'who' that

force is!"

Brahma, Indra, Brhaspati and Narada looked at the Lord expectantly.

"That force is none other than Aruna, the thigh-less!" proclaimed Lord

Vishnu.

‘Aruna!" Brahma exclaimed in astonishment.

"Yes," said the Lord. "He is Kasyapa's son by his wife, Vinata. In spite of

lacking lower limbs, Aruna's body possesses the strength to absorb and

filter Surya's heat. Brahma, it is your duty to convince Aruna to take up his

permanent station before Surya on his chariot."

Brahma obediently saluted Lord Vishnu. The rest of the company followed

suit and took their leave of Sri Mahavishnu.

"Master!" Chidananda pointed out eagerly. "You have not related the story

of Aruna's birth."

"Aruna's birth had no relevance to our earlier narrative," Nirvikalpananda

replied. "Now that he enters the picture, I will give you the complete details

of his origin and life.

"I have already told you how Kasyapa prajapati’s wives, Vinata and Kadru,

asked him for children. While Kadru wished for a thousand Naga sons,

Vinata desired two sons of formidable strength.

"Sage Kasyapa granted their wishes. In due course, Kadru delivered one

thousand eggs and Vinata, two. The sage cautioned them to keep the eggs

carefully in pots of ghee and protect them. After a few days, Kadru's eggs

hatched and Vasuki, Sesha, Iravatha, Takshaka and other serpents emerged

from them. However, to Vinata's disappointment, her eggs remained

unchanged.

"As the days passed, Vinata grew increasingly anxious. Her younger sister

was now a mother, but she herself continued to be childless! She watched

her eggs with growing impatience. Finally, reaching the end of her

endurance, she removed one of eggs from the pot of ghee and dropped it on

the ground. A baby boy emerged from the broken shell: to Vinata's horror,

as a result of her impetuosity, the infant was only half-developed and had

no limbs beneath his waist. This boy was Aruna. He is also called Anoora –

the thigh-less one.

"Aruna was furious with his mother for rashly breaking the egg before the

complete development of his body. Blaming her for his deformity, Aruna

cursed her to become her sister Kadru's slave. He strictly commanded her to

leave the other egg in the pot of ghee. He assured her that it would hatch in

its own good time and a brother of great strength would emerge from it.

This son would procure her freedom from her slavery. With this advice,

Aruna stoically bid his mother farewell and flew into the vast expanse of

the sky," Nirvikalpananda said.

"Master, did Aruna get married?" asked Vimalananda.

"Yes, Vimalananda," Nirvikalpananda said. ‘Aruna accepted Syeni as his

wife and had two sons." He smiled at his four listeners. "You know who

they are: one is Sampaati and the other is Jataayu. Both these eagles feature

in the Ramayana ."

"Master," Sanananda asked curiously, "what happened to Vinata's other

egg?"

"As Aruna predicted, a golden bird of awesome strength emerged from the

second egg: it was none other than Garuda!" The master paused as the

disciples exclaimed in wonder. ‘After freeing his mother from slavery,

Garuda left to become Sri Mahavishnu's vehicle. And now, let us return to

Rahu's life story! Bowing to Lord Vishnu's command, Brahma appeared

before Aruna …"

Aruna prostrated himself before Brahma.

"May happiness be yours!" said Brahma in blessing.

"Bhagavan,” Aruna retorted, "how can this deformed being experience

happiness?"

"Aruna," smiled Brahma, "I am here for the express purpose of showing

you the path which leads to happiness and universal respect."

Aruna waited expectantly for the Creator to continue.

"Lord Vishnu has sent me here to command you to sit before Surya on his

chariot. I hereby appoint you Surya's charioteer."

"Bhagavan!” exclaimed the surprised Aruna. "May I know the reason for

this sudden appointment?"

Brahma acquainted Aruna with the prevailing circumstances: "Rahu

swallowed Surya in an act of vengeance. In order to protect himself from

further threats, Surya has increased his temperature to unendurable heights.

Consequently, the worlds are buffeted by dangerous heat waves." Brahma

urged his listener: ‘Aruna, you alone have the strength to filter Surya's heat.

That is why we choose you to be his charioteer. Bow to my request and … "

Aruna intervened quickly. "Bhagavan , I willingly accept your command as

a boon bestowed on me – it is a mark of honour! After all, Surya is the son

of my mother's elder sister, Aditi – I am fortunate to serve my elder brother

as his charioteer. I am grateful to you for your grace." Aruna folded his

hands in reverence.

Syeni, Aruna's wife, came to pay her respects to Brahma. Bowing to the

Creator, she said: "Bhagavan, I beg you to bless my husband by making

him whole."

Brahma's eyes were compassionate. "Syeni, your desire stems from your

deep affection. However, any achievement by a person who is whole in

body does not stand out – it is not a victory in the true sense of the word!"

Brahma's next words rang with conviction: "Aruna will prove to the world

that a physical deformity is neither a curse nor an obstacle to achievement.

Your husband will stand as the role model for all handicapped mortals and

inspire them to great heights of accomplishment!"

"Your will is our treasure, my Lord!" Syeni said.

‘Aruna," Brahma extended his hand. "Come, my son."

Aruna took the Creator's hand and both of them vanished together on their

urgent mission.

Surya strode briskly towards his chariot, heating himself up for the day

ahead. He stopped in his tracks at Brahma's sudden appearance. To his

surprise, the Lord held a stranger by the hand: it was a person with a

partially developed body.

Surya folded his hands in reverence and saluted Brahma, who raised his

own hand in benediction.

"Surya," Brahma introduced the stranger. "This is Aruna: he is none other

than your younger brother."

"Younger brother?" Surya frowned in bewilderment.

"Yes, brother," Aruna replied. "I am the son of Vinata: your mother's

younger sister. I am Aruna – also called Anoora." Aruna greeted Surya with

respectfully folded hands.

Surya embraced Aruna warmly.

Lord Brahma explained the circumstances. "Surya, you are under constant

danger of being swallowed by Rahu and Ketu at the first opportune

moment. On the other hand, the flaming protective shield you have assumed

in defense is wreaking havoc on the atmospheric balance. The worlds are

reeling under the onslaught of your phenomenal heat." He continued, "Your

brother, Aruna, has the strength to regulate your temperature – he will

absorb your rays and filter them to endurable levels. Your life-giving rays

will then reach the three worlds and bless them with prosperity as before.

Position Aruna before you on the yoke of your chariot and accept him as

your charioteer."

Surya folded his hands and bowed in acceptance. "I am indeed blessed!" he

said.

As commanded by Brahma, Surya installed Aruna as his charioteer and

took his own place behind him. Immediately, Surya's excessive heat was

tempered by Aruna, who sat before him as a protective shield.

Brahma smiled contentedly at the pair and raised his hand in benediction

over them.

The astonished Rahu and Ketu noted the abrupt drop in Surya's

temperature.

"Brother Rahu!" exclaimed Ketu. "It looks like the tide is turning in our

favour! Come, let's not waste time in swallowing Surya – it's my turn now:

I will show him what I'm made of!"

Rahu was more circumspect. "Let's first find out what's happening and then

decide on our course of action," he said.

Concealing themselves behind a thick cloud in Surya's path, the asuras

eagerly awaited his arrival. Soon, his glittering chariot appeared in the

distance. To their surprise, an individual with an obviously deformed

physique sat on the chariot's yoke, blocking Surya from their view. And, to

their further amazement, Surya's heat was now reduced to normal levels.

Gradually, it dawned on the bewildered asuras that it was the strange

charioteer who was instrumental in filtering and absorbing Surya's

abnormal radiation.

"Brother," urged Ketu, in impetuous excitement. "Let's quickly swallow

them both!"

Rahu cautioned his brother. "Ketu, we cannot attack the charioteer. He is

the shield which protects all the beings of the worlds, including you and me,

from the threat of Surya's intolerable heat waves. It is essential to the

survival of the universe that Surya's heat remains confined to bearable

levels." He continued thoughtfully: "We will have to bide our time and wait

patiently until we can catch Surya unguarded and at his normal

temperature."

Ketu was bitterly disappointed. "When can I swallow him? How I want to

punish him right now!"

"We'll do one thing!" Rahu consoled his brother. "We will show ourselves

to Surya in an indirect show of strength and make it clear to him that we are

constantly on the alert to attack him: he will not have a moment's peace of

mind!"

Rahu and Ketu waited in ambush for Surya. As the chariot drew near, the

asuras burst out of hiding and heckled the vehicle's two passengers with

loud jeers and raucous laughter.

Aruna turned to Surya in interrogation. Surya remained coolly self-

possessed. ‘Aruna," he said in imperturbable composure. "Keep going. Do

not halt the chariot."

Aruna, obeying his instructions, asked, "But, brother – who are they?"

"They are also our father's sons." Surya replied. "Keep going now – I will

explain everything to you later."

Surya gave Rahu and Ketu an impassive stare as he passed on.

Kasyapa prajapati stood in the ashram grounds, surrounded by a happy

crowd: Aditi, Vinata and Kadru, relief writ large on their faces, rejoiced at

Surya's escape and his return to his normal condition.

"Swami," Aditi addressed her husband. "Surya has reduced his temperature

to regular levels."

"As always, your son considers the welfare of the three worlds," Sage

Kasyapa smiled benignly at her.

Aditi did not return his smile. "Swami , Surya has lowered the abnormal

intensity of his radiation. He is now vulnerable to attack once more. I am

worried that Rahu and Ketu may go on the offensive again!"

"Narayana!" Everyone looked up at Sage Narada's familiar chant.

"Now, now," Narada reassured Aditi. "There is nothing to worry about! In

practical terms, Surya has not lowered his guard: he remains well-protected

by the fiery defense mechanism he has assumed." He smiled at the

assembled gathering: "As ordained by Sri Mahavishnu, Brahma has

positioned an individual of formidable strength in front of Surya as his

charioteer. It is this living shield which regulates the heat waves radiating

from Surya and defends the worlds from the ravages of his fiery rays."

"Oh, this is good news indeed, Sage Narada," said Kasyapa. "By the way,

who is this mighty person who shields the cosmos from our son's

destructive heat?"

Narada's eyes twinkled. "That great person is none other than this great

person's son!" The sage pointed laughingly at Kasyapa.

"What?!" exclaimed the bewildered Kasyapa.

"Yes," Narada said with a smile. "It is Vinatadevi's son, Aruna, born with an

unformed body."

Kasyapa, along with Aditi and her sisters, turned to Vinata in one accord.

"Can this be true?" Vinata asked tremulously. "Is my son his elder brother,

Surya's, charioteer?"

"Yes, Vinatadevi," Narada reiterated emphatically. "Your malformed son is

fortunate indeed!"

"I did my son grave injustice by cutting short his development through my

reckless impatience. It was I who made Aruna deformed." Vinata wiped the

tears of joy which coursed down her cheeks. "But the Supreme God, in his

mercy, has redressed the wrong done to my son!"

Kasyapa congratulated his wife: "Vinata, you are indeed fortunate: one son

is Lord Vishnu's vehicle; the other is Surya's charioteer."

"Let us add another blessing to that — Aruna will be the one to grant his

darshan to the entire cosmos before they glimpse Surya himself. Aruna's

dawn will herald Surya's rising!" Narada smiled complacently at this

eminently satisfactory state of affairs.

Subsequent to Sage Narada's visit, Simhika, Danu, Simhidevi, Chitralekha

and Meghahasa held a private conclave in a secluded corner of the

hermitage. Danu, who had eavesdropped on Narada's conversation with

Vinata, acquainted the group with the information regarding Aruna.

"It is all Vishnu's doing!" raged Simhika. "He persists in fanning the flame

of enmity among our children!"

"Yes," Danu reinforced her accusation. "He has deliberately made Surya's

step-brother his charioteer. It is a ploy to foil Rahu and Ketu's scheme to

wreak vengeance on Surya!"

"Now, our husbands will be unable to make Surya and Chandra pay for

their treachery!" lamented Simhika.

"Why not?" The group looked up in surprise at these defiant words: Rahu

stood before them, with Ketu by his side as usual.

‘Aruna's presence, or absence, from Surya's side is immaterial to the

execution of our plan." Ketu proclaimed arrogantly. "Our hunger for

vengeance is immutable and we will not rest until it is appeased."

"Yes," added Meghahasa. ‘And the boons I have obtained for my father and

uncle from Lord Shiva are formidable weapons in our armoury!"

"Well said, Meghahasa!" Rahu swelled in approval of his son's words. "Our

power is unmatched! Surya thinks he has evaded capture by hiding behind

Anoora." He snorted in contempt and continued. "Never fear – I will soon

trap him and swallow him again."

"But, Anoora sits right in front of Surya," Simhidevi reminded them. "If he

meets with harm, our mother-in-law, Vinatadevi, will endure untold agony!"

"Devi," Rahu reassured her. ‘Anoora will not suffer in any way. The poor

boy has no legs – I would not dream of harming him." He continued

confidently. "I can reach Surya in spite of Anoora shielding him. I will pull

Surya into my mouth. Once he is inside, his heat will die." There was a

proud gleam in Rahu's eyes. "He is merely Bhanu: the radiance – I am

Swarbhanu: the splendor of radiance! Moreover, I am also armed with Lord

Shiva's priceless boons."

"Swami," Chitralekha addressed her husband curiously. ‘Are you both

planning to take turns in wreaking vengeance on Surya and Chandra?"

Ketu's terrifying gales of laughter assailed their ears. "Both of us harbor a

grudge in our souls … both of us burn with the desire for vengeance . and

both of us will swallow Surya and Chandra in alternate succession! We will

reduce them to a state of abject helplessness and alarm: they will live in

constant fear, trying in vain to guess when, and from whom, the next attack

comes!"

"I pay obeisance to the feet of my father and mother!" Sage Narada stood

before Brahma and Saraswati with respectfully folded hands.

Saraswati's eyes twinkled. "Narada, my son, and what juicy tidbit do you

bring to your father's ears?"

"Narayana! Narayana!" Narada exclaimed in apparent innocence. ‘And

what makes you suspect that I bring fresh tidings, mother?"

"My son, we all know that you would not honour anyone with your

presence unless you have some information to impart or gather!" Brahma

smiled in wry amusement. "Do you think Saraswati, the goddess of speech,

cannot deduce your motive? Come, now: tell us the purpose of your visit.

Why are you here – to collect information, or to disseminate it?"

"Father," Narada smiled back in surrender. "You know that I can do neither

without it being decreed by you! Grant me the pleasure of telling you what I

have seen and heard." He continued: ‘At Lord Vishnu's command, you

positioned Aruna before Surya and successfully regulated the heat waves

emanating from him – but you have overlooked the need to regulate Rahu!"

Brahma nodded thoughtfully at Brahma's words.

"Without Aruna as a protective shield, Surya's fiery demeanour kept Rahu

at bay. But now. the situation has changed," Narada emphasized.

Goddess Saraswati chuckled. "It looks like father and son wracked their

brains and came up with a solution to one problem – but failed to take into

consideration the other! You controlled the menace posed by Surya's

insufferable heat – and neglected to deal with the menace posed by Rahu!"

"Saraswati, that cannot be termed neglect," Brahma protested mildly. "It is

more of an oversight. Moreover, Vishnu and I cannot resolve this issue

unilaterally without Lord Shiva's contribution: remember, it was he who

granted Rahu and Ketu boons through Meghahasa."

"Swami," Saraswati smiled complacently. "Of course, I am aware of that."

She paused meaningfully. "It is obvious that the Trimurti must meet and

hammer out a consensual solution."

"Well said, mother!" Narada was enthusiastic at this proposal. "I come here

straight from Sage Kasyapa's hermitage – and Kasyapa and Aditi are of the

same opinion. They insist that something must to be done to restrain Rahu,

as he will not be deterred by Aruna's mere presence."

Brahma nodded in agreement. "Yes, Narada, your mother is right. It is high

time the Trimurti came together to deal with this predicament once and for

all!" He ordered his son: "Until a permanent solution is found, keep a

watchful eye on Rahu."

"It shall be done, father. It is essential that the Trimurti resolve this issue as

fast as possible!"

Narada saluted his parents and hurried away.

Rahu streaked eastwards across the sky, intent on his mission of vengeance.

He mulled over his plan of action. Today he would capture Surya and keep

him confined in his stomach from dawn to dusk. It should be simple enough

to approach Surya and swallow him quickly.

Aruna would not prove an obstacle to his goal. After all, Rahu had single-

handedly vanquished Surya himself – surely a deformed Aruna, lacking

lower limbs, could not mount any defence worth the name!

The exultant Rahu, confident in the success of his coming offensive,

weaved playfully among the clouds: he floated serenely above them, fitfully

concealed himself within their fluffy interiors and then banked to flash

underneath their cover. He frolicked in glee, scattering the clouds into

tatters of laughter. He emerged from a thick bank of cumulus and braked to

an abrupt halt. His eyes widened in surprise, mixed with growing suspicion.

The Trimurti blocked his path. There before him stood Lord Vishnu, who

had beheaded him, Lord Shiva, who has bestowed wondrous boons on him,

and Lord Brahma, his own grandfather.

"I salute Lord Shiva's holy feet!" Rahu bowed in reverence to his

benefactor.

Lord Shiva extended his hand in benediction over Rahu's bowed head and

gently reprimanded the asura : "Rahu, it is not right to show overt partiality.

Offer your salutations to Vishnu and Brahma too."

Rahu folded his hands perfunctorily in Lord Brahma's direction and turned

toward Lord Shiva. "Bhagavan,” he said indignantly, "you know that

Vishnu demonstrated his own partiality towards the devas by serving the

amrita exclusively to them. He then beheaded Ketu and me for having had

the presence of mind to sit with the gods!" Rahu pointed an accusing finger

at Lord Vishnu, his words simmering with anger.

"Rahu," Vishnu smiled serenely. "Even before I could serve the amrita , you

and Ketu, fearing that the asuras would not get their share, committed the

grave mistake of disguising yourself as devas . Every crime merits its

punishment."

"That does not excuse your own crime!" Rahu retorted.

Lord Vishnu asked in his turn: "When Dhanvantari emerged with the pot of

amrita , an asura snatched it from him and fled. Was that not a crime? Why

did you not condemn your fellow-demons' improper action?"

Rahu, at a loss for words, looked away peevishly.

Lord Shiva intervened emphatically: "Rahu, all this is water under the

bridge. Let us forget the past. Your festering resentment against Surya

goaded you into inflicting punishment on him by swallowing him. It is

acceptable to retaliate against one's enemy: however, your action impinges

on all the worlds." Lord Shiva locked eyes with the asura. "Rahu, the effect

of your vengeance is not confined to Surya alone. You must put a stop to

it!"

"Swami … ." Rahu faltered.

"In response to your son's penance, I lavished boons on you. These boons

will earn you fame and secure your advancement." He smiled wryly. "Surya

and Chandra merely pointed you out to Vishnu – it was Vishnu who

beheaded you. Why then does your vengeance not extend to Vishnu? Is that

not strange?"

"Rahu," Brahma spoke in conciliatory tones. "Your desire for revenge was

born from impetuous anger, not from calm contemplation. You may subject

your adversary to torment – but not at the cost of the well-being of the

entire cosmos. You know that Lord Shiva is right."

"Rahu," Sri Mahavishnu said. "You were born as Sage Kasyapa's son, as

ordained by me. Your birth has a purpose: and that is certainly not to inflict

vengeance on Surya and Chandra!" He continued persuasively. "Soon, you

will be anointed to take your place in a renowned company of the gods. At

that time, the boon bestowed on you by Lord Shiva will come into effect.

You will be worshipped by the three worlds. Prepare for that eminent role

and banish your vendetta from your mind."

"Rahu, this is the wish of the Trimurti ," Brahma emphasized.

Rahu looked silently at Lord Shiva, who added: "Rahu, it is in your interest

to accept our proposal." He smiled reassuringly at the asura. "You will be

endowed with a palatial abode in space and invested with special powers

and duties."

Rahu folded his hands in reverence and addressed the Holy Trinity as one.

"I swore an oath to my family to avenge myself on Surya and Chandra. I

will keep my promise to them – at the same time, I will bow to the

command of the Trimurti ."

The three gods frowned in bewilderment.

"Contrary to our earlier resolution to exact revenge on them daily, Ketu and

I will content ourselves with swallowing Surya and Chandra a few times

each year. Again, instead of keeping them confined to our abdomens for an

entire day, we will eclipse their power momentarily and then expel them."

He insisted to the listening gods. "You must accept this compromise and

bless us. Leave it to me to convince my brother, Ketu."

Lord Shiva mulled over the implications of this proposal. "In effect, your

vengeance will be confined to a well-delineated, limited time." He came to

a decision. "Rahu, we accept your proposition."

"So be it!" chorused Vishnu and Brahma in unison.

Rahu circumambulated the Trimurti with devoutly folded hands and came

to stand before them again.

"Return to the hermitage, Rahu!" Lord Vishnu said with a smile.

‘And that brings us to the end of Rahu's life story." Nirvikalpananda looked

questioningly at his attentive listeners. "Any doubts? If so, let me hear

them!"

"Master, did Rahu faithfully keep the promise he made to the Trimurti?"

Sadananda asked.

"Certainly, my boy," the master was emphatic. "We all see Rahu and Ketu

swallowing Surya and Chandra a few times a year for a limited period of

time.

"Rahu and Ketu decided to swallow Surya during the day of a new moon

and Chandra during the night of a full moon. We will elaborate on this

when we move on to Ketu's life story. As I told you earlier, Ketu grew up

with Rahu in Kasyapa's hermitage. He joined Rahu in disguising himself as

a deva in order to obtain the amrita and, along with Rahu, was decapitated.

Now, let us listen to the other significant events in Ketu's life …"

Vimalananda respectfully intervened. "Master, wouldn't it be better if we

first cleared our doubts regarding Ketu's origin?"

"That would certainly be best, Vimalananda," Nirvikalpananda agreed.

"What is on your mind?"

"Master, according to you, Ketu emerged from the heated breath of Mrthyu

and was brought up in Sage Kasyapa's hermitage …"

"Yes, my boy," Nirvikalpananda interrupted him. "I have also given you my

explanation for this. We have already arrived at a rational conclusion

regarding Ketu's birth and upbringing."

"Yes, master – but some scriptures assert that Rahu was the only one to

disguise himself as a god, and be beheaded, during the churning of the

Ocean of Milk. According to those texts, while Rahu's head survived as

Rahu, his body became Ketu"

"Ah," exclaimed Nirvikalpananda, "I see your confusion. I will address it in

detail.

"Have you taken into consideration the form in which Ketu is worshipped

in temples, along with the other grahas ? This must be done in order to give

due regard to the Navagrahas’ believers and devotees. Their sensibilities

must be respected before drawing any conclusion.

"Like the other eight grahas , Ketu is represented with a distinct body and

features. Though many consider Rahu and Ketu to be shadow planets, it is

generally accepted that they possess their own unique traits and

personalities.

"Ketu boasts of a singular from. His prescribed worship and special eulogy

are markedly distinct. His glow can be easily differentiated. He has specific

features. In this context, it is logical to accept that he had his own particular

identity right from the beginning."

The master continued in this vein. "Some scriptures specifically state that

Ketu was born as an individual in his own right. The Vishnudharmothara

Purana holds that Ketu was not a part of Rahu, but a separate entity. Again,

the Skaanda Purana asserts that Rahu and Ketu were seated side by side

during the distribution of the amrita by Lord Vishnu as Mohini. The

Ranganatha Ramayana also supports this stand and says that Rahu and

Ketu have their own separate physiques and unique characteristics. The last

text unambiguously claims that Vishnu beheaded both Rahu and Ketu.

"Based on the established practice of worshipping Rahu and Ketu as

different idol forms at temples, we can safely accept them as two distinct

grahas right from their births," Nirvikalpananda explained.

"Master," Shivananda bowed in respect. ‘As always, your analysis is well

reasoned and eminently satisfactory."

"So, let us resume Ketu's narrative using the same logical viewpoint.

Everyone in Kasyapa's hermitage approved of the truce forged by Rahu

with the Trimurti , except Ketu …"

Nirvikalpananda launched his narrative once more.

The Life of Ketu

T he garden behind the hermitage was deserted except for one very angry,

inconsolable individual–Ketu agitatedly paced up and down its narrow

paths. A terrifying crimson hue animated his burning face and sparks of

fury flashed from his red eyes.

Rahu's account of his pusillanimous treaty with the Trimurti echoed

mockingly in Ketu's ears. It was evident that Rahu had been deceived by the

sweet-talking Holy Trinity: why else would his brother have so easily

agreed to give up his vendetta against Surya and Chandra, who had

instigated Vishnu to behead him and Ketu? How could Rahu have ignored

the oath they had taken to wreak continuous vengeance on Surya and

Chandra?

Vishnu's charade during the distribution of the amrita was an insult, not

only to him and his brother, but to the entire rakshasa clan. The gods

undoubtedly deserved to be punished.

After Rahu's tame surrender, it would be best if they both parted ways. Ketu

himself would single-handedly inflict punishment on Surya and Chandra –

he would hold them captive by eclipsing their light. Surya would suffer

under his hold on every day of the month. In Chandra's case, it would

suffice to punish him on fifteen nights in a month - he would anyway wane

under the influence of his chronic tuberculosis on the other fifteen nights.

Proud of his own determination and courage, Ketu laughed aloud.

"Swami … " Ketu stopped short and turned in the direction of the faltering

voice. His wife, Chitralekha, and his mother, Danudevi, were coming

towards him.

"Son," Danu asked, "why are you here alone, laughing to yourself?"

"He is happy," Chitralekha remarked naively. But once they stood beside

him, they looked askance at his thunderous countenance.

"Mother," Ketu exclaimed. "how can I be happy? Are we to be conciliated

with a few paltry boons for all the hatred and insults of the past?! Mother,

your son's heart burns!"

"I understand, my son," Danu consoled Ketu. "Surya and Chandra were

responsible for your decapitation at Vishnu's ruthless hands. It is not right

that they be allowed to get away scot-free for their heinous crime–they must

be punished! You must regain your past glory!"

"Swami … " Chitralekha said hesitantly, "the treaty forged by your brother,

Rahu, seems to be just …"

"Chitralekha!" Chitralekha and Danu froze in alarm at Ketu's roar of

warning.

He continued angrily: "Rahu was bewitched! He has forgotten his vow to

exact vengeance!"

Danudevi locked eyes with her furious son and asked, "Very well,

Ketu,what do you plan to do, now?"

"I will burn Aditeya and Aatreya in the everlasting fire of my vengeance!"

Ketu gnashed his teeth. Chitralekha looked at her mother-in-law in alarm.

"How would you accomplish that, son?" Danudevi calmly asked.

"How?!" Ketu laughed in derision. "Surya will vanish during every day of

the month – Chandra will vanish during the first fifteen nights of the month.

They will disappear into the dark cavern of my stomach!"

"Very well, Ketu," Danu said. "But, have you stopped to think about the

consequences of your action on the three worlds?"

"Mother," Ketu said haughtily, "the worlds can be annihilated for all I care!!

Tell me, mother, did any one of those worlds shed tears when our heads

were sundered from our torsos?"

"If you swallow Surya, the worlds will languish in the absence of heat and

light. Famine will raise its ugly head."

"Mother," Ketu shrugged callously, "I am indifferent to the suffering of the

three worlds."

‘And when you swallow Chandra," Danu persisted, "there will be no

moonlight. The herbs which flourish in the cool light of the moon will

perish. Without medicines, all diseased beings will inevitably die."

Ketu burst into cruel laughter. "I would be very happy if such an outcome

came to pass! What a triumph that would be for my vengeance!"

Danudevi smiled enigmatically. "Son, the sunlight and the moonlight are

not essential to the three worlds alone: certain other people are also

dependent on them for survival."

"And who might they be, mother?" Ketu asked curiously.

"I, your father, your wife, my sisters, your rakshasa kin and, finally, you

yourself, all need the light of the sun and the moon as a precondition for

life! Have you forgotten this simple truth, Ketu?"

Danu's words cut him like a whiplash. Ketu stood with his mouth agape, his

eyes fixed on his mother.

"Swami," Chitralekha said gently. "What your mother says is true: all of us

at the hermitage grew weak when the sun failed to shine for just a single

day!"

"My son, here is another fact you should keep in mind," Danudevi's voice

was filled with compassion. "In order to take revenge on Surya, you must

remain in good health – and in order to remain healthy, you require both

sunlight and moonlight."

"Mother …" Ketu faltered.

"Son, inflicting suffering on another makes sense only when it gives you

joy. It would be self- defeating if your vengeance ruined your own welfare."

"How then can I taste vengeance, mother?" Ketu was disconsolate.

"Just emulate your elder brother, Rahu," Danu was serenely confident.

Ketu stared at his mother. 'Yes,' he thought, 'Mother is right! If one plans to

push someone into a ravine, one must first have his own feet firmly planted

on the overhanging cliff!'

Ketu nodded slowly in agreement. "Mother, you are right," he said. "I will

follow brother Rahu's lead. He is yet to swallow Chandra – perhaps he has

left him to me! I will swallow Chandra tonight!" Ketu exclaimed

enthusiastically.

"Ketu," Danudevi said in wry amusement, "enthusiasm alone is not enough

to ensure success. It should be complemented with intelligent thinking.

Right now, Chandra is a crescent – soon he will grow to his full rotundity.

On the night of the full moon, he will be at the peak of happiness and pride.

That is when you must strike – the enemy's suffering will be multiplied if it

shatters existing happiness." Her voice rose in command. "Son, attack

Chandra on the night of the full moon!"

"Mother, your wisdom is past compare! I bow to your advice." He paused

thoughtfully. "There are many days to go for the full moon. In that interim, I

will concentrate on Surya!" Ketu gave a malicious cackle of laughter. "I

will ensure that Surya is haunted by my constant presence!"

‘Are you planning to swallow Surya?" Danudevi asked.

"No, mother," Ketu smiled. "In future, Rahu and Ketu will faithfully take

turns to deal with Surya."

"Son, obtain Rahu's blessings before you leave," were Danudevi's

affectionate words of parting.

Surya reclined complacently on the seat of his chariot. He was supremely

secure in the confidence that he need no longer fear Rahu: the Trimurti’s

intervention had put paid to that threat. He was blessed with a charioteer

who could instinctively comprehend the intentions of both the chariot's

master and the steeds drawing it. This made Surya's diurnal journey across

the daytime sky a pleasure.

Suddenly, he sat up in alarm. A hoot of blood-curdling laughter came to

taunt him from the roaring clouds. Surya looked round him searchingly. The

hideous sound seemed to emerge from a thick bank of clouds in his path.

Who could this be? What was the reason for this jeering laughter? Was it

Rahu?

The gales of merriment scattered the clouds with their ferocity, revealing

Ketu's face: it hung in the air like a glistening, wicked clot of blood.

Aruna instinctively turned to his master. "Surya Bhagavan ," he asked,

"who is this demon?"

Surya's eyes were glued to the hideous face. "It is Ketu, Rahu's younger

brother," he replied.

Ketu's cavernous mouth yawned open and the asura gestured at Surya to

come forward. His red tongue was a bright flame inside the deep cavity.

Wickedly pointed incisors and canines formed barriers framing the entrance

to this abyss of doom. His taunts and terrifying laughter conveyed the

warning: 'I am waiting to swallow you – be prepared!"

However, Surya noticed that Ketu remained equidistant from the chariot,

even when he persisted in his chase. Rahu and Ketu had both nursed their

resentment into full-blown hatred towards him and Chandra. Why had the

Trimurti dealt with Rahu alone and ignored Ketu? Had they mistakenly

assumed that Ketu bore no grudge against Surya? Were Rahu and Ketu in

cahoots over some scheme to take turns in attacking him? Why did Ketu

keep at a distance? These and a thousand other niggling doubts buzzed

through Surya's anxious mind: his earlier complacence vanished into the

blue sky.

As Surya continued on his passage, Ketu's mocking laughter followed him

inexorably, echoing through the vast reaches of the atmosphere. It seemed

as though the chariot was surrounded by an invisible crowd of jeering

asuras .

At long last, it was the time of sunset. Surya heaved a sigh of relief. Aruna's

face glowed with a serene smile and calm repose spread across the sky.

Surya looked back: Ketu remained at his fixed distance behind the chariot,

leering at them.

Surya wondered: 'Was Ketu conveying a warning?' Surya reached out to the

Trimurti in silent prayer.

Chandra, liberated from the curse pronounced on him by his father-in- law,

Daksha prajapati, recovered from the dreadful tuberculosis which had

decimated him for fifteen days. Over the next fifteen days, he waxed into

his full glory and reached his zenith. On the night of the full moon,

Chandra's twenty-seven wives gazed in admiration at his unblemished,

complete radiance and bid him a fond farewell as he set out on his journey

across the night sky.

Chandra made his serene way through the cloudless night, bathing the

worlds in his silver light. Suddenly, a deafening thunder-clap shattered the

silence of night. Thunder – in a clear sky?!

Chandra looked round in bewilderment. He gave a gasp of surprise at the

strange apparition standing before him: a crimson face … cavernous mouth

… sharp, pointed teeth … wild, matted hair …

"Why do you stare at me like that, Chandra?" the stranger asked. "Don't you

recognize me? You were perfectly capable of identifying me earlier in a

deva’s disguise!" He broke into wicked laughter.

Chandra came to a halt and continued to stare at the demon in puzzlement.

"It seems you have conveniently forgotten the moment you had my head

severed from my body!"

Realization dawned belatedly on Chandra. "You … you are Ketu!" he

gasped.

"You may forget me," Ketu screeched, “but, rest assured, I will never forget

you! I will keep you constantly in my mind. I will ensure that I meet you

every night. I will swallow you unceasingly!"

Ketu dashed towards the unsuspecting Chandra with a speed which threw

the winds into a roaring turmoil. Ketu's cavernous mouth opened wider and

wider until it was a repulsive, gargantuan cavity of gore. Catching Chandra

unawares, Ketu quickly pulled him into his gaping maw. With deliberate,

unhurried movements, Ketu effortlessly swallowed the hapless Chandra,

delighting in every movement of his jaws.

Chandra disappeared into the fiery pit of Ketu's mouth as if into a dark

storm cloud. His brilliant radiance diminished gradually. Soon, the

moonlight vanished from the night sky and darkness shrouded the three

worlds.

Indra strolled with Sachidevi in the divine Nandana garden. The cool breeze

carried the fragrance of the heavenly paarijaatha flowers and the kalpaka

trees. The light of the full moon painted the garden in ethereal beauty.

Sachidevi was bathed in silver. In Indra's eyes, his wife surpassed the

apsaras in loveliness. The king of the devas drank in her beauty as she

lifted her face towards the moon like a night-blooming lily.

Suddenly, a shadow crossed her face and blurred its exquisite contours and

her body was engulfed in darkness. Indra frowned in bewilderment and

looked around him. Darkness had crept not only over his wife, but over the

entire garden! Indra looked up at the sky: Had a cloud blocked the moon?

No … the sky remained clear.

Indra's eyes widened in shock at the drama unfolding in the night sky.

Someone was swallowing Chandra! Who was it? Was it Rahu? Had the

asura broken his compact with the Trimurti? In a flash of sudden

realization, Indra guessed that it was none other than Ketu!

Rahu had retired behind the curtains and let Ketu take center-stage! After

all, Ketu was also an injured party during the distribution of the amrita .

"Swami," Indra snapped out of his introspection at Sachidevi's anxious call.

He peered into the darkness and saw his wife groping her way towards him

as a vague shadow. He reached out for her hand.

"Swami," her voice mirrored her bewilderment, "what is the cause of this

sudden darkness on a full moon night?"

‘A new threat has reared its ugly head." Indra said angrily. "It is black

magic: Ketu has swallowed Chandra. I must rush to meet the Holy Trinity!"

Indra walked rapidly towards his palace, shepherding his wife before him.

Having kept Chandra confined in his stomach all night long, and subjecting

him to agonizing punishment, Ketu spat him out at dawn. Like a grotesque

artist gloating over a canvas painted with a demonic brush, the asura gazed

in smug satisfaction at his bedraggled, feeble, dim captive. .

"Chandra, hear me: this is but the first of an unending series of punishment

for the wrong you did me and brother Rahu." Ketu crowed in malicious

triumph. "I will come for you at my whim and pleasure and wreak my

vengeance by swallowing you!"

As Chandra remained in forlorn silence, Ketu burst into gleeful laughter at

his miserable state. The asura’s face grew even more hideous with the flash

of his cruel teeth. Head bent under the heavy burden of abject defeat,

Chandra rose to make his departure. Ketu's malicious laughter pursued him

relentlessly.

Chandra could not recover from Ketu's merciless pummeling – even under

the tender ministrations of his twenty-seven wives! A bath in scented water

failed to relax his rigid muscles. He was petrified with fear: he was fated to

endure Daksha's curse of tuberculosis for the first half of the month –now,

to compound his misery, he had to suffer being eclipsed by the asuras in the

second half of the month! He was surrounded by hardships beyond his

wildest imagination!

"Swami," asked a concerned Aswini, "how will you escape from Rahu and

Ketu's clutches?"

"Their demonic strength is incredible … and it is augmented by Lord

Shiva's boons!" Chandra heaved a sigh of despair. ‘Aswini, my heart aches

at being subjected to such torment. All I did was to ensure that the asuras

did not lay their hands on the amrita ." He closed his eyes in pained

recollection: "Oh! The foul odour in that hideous stomach … the revolting

saliva … I shudder to think of the torture!"

"How are we to escape from this great danger, Swami ?" Rohini's eyes

melted in compassion.

"There is only one way: I will have to stay at home and abdicate all my

ordained tasks and duties," Chandra said resignedly.

"But, Swami," Bharani pointed out: "the worlds will suffer in the absence of

moonlight!"

"Sister, there are only two options for our husband: remaining in the

security of our abode or enduring untold suffering in that hideous rakshasas

stomach. There is no way he can risk travelling in the night sky," Krthika

argued.

Chandra nodded in sombre agreement with Krthika. "If I am destined to

deny the worlds my light by being cooped up somewhere, let it be here with

you! I refuse to walk into that demon's stomach – I will not go out!"

Chandra declared emphatically.

"Narayana! Narayana!" Sage Narada had arrived with his familiar

invocation to Lord Vishnu.

The anxious gathering rose to salute the sage. Chandra folded his hands

weakly in wordless greeting and sank back onto his couch.

"May happiness be yours," blessed Narada. The sage took an appreciative

sniff. "Aaaah … what a pleasant fragrance!'

"Our husband was trapped in that rakshasa ’s abominable stomach for the

entire night. He returned home dripping with revolting fluids and reeking of

a foul odour," Aswini explained indignantly. "We have given him a bath in

water, scented with divine perfumes."

"Lucky you, Chandra!" Narada eyes twinkled. ‘All these beautiful ladies

bathing you in scented water!"

"Sage Narada!" Chandra, not in the least amused, protested weakly. "You

cannot imagine my terror and agony!"

"Narayana," said the irrepressible sage. "I heard you elaborate on them at

length from the door!" He continued, "So, you have decided not to go out

tonight to discharge your duties?"

"Maharshi," Chandra said gravely, "I am thinking of retiring permanently!"

"Narayana!" Narada exclaimed. "You will wane under the debilitating

influence of tuberculosis during the first half of the month. If you refuse to

cross the night sky for the other fifteen days, what will the repercussions

be? How will the herbs flourish without the light of your cool rays? Without

herbs, how will medicines be prepared? What will be the fate of the sick?"

"Do you advise service at the cost of personal suffering, Maharshi ?"

Chandra countered plaintively.

"Narayana!" retorted the sage. "It was precisely because they feared that

you would abdicate your duties with such thoughts that the Trimurti sent me

here!"

"The Trimurti ?!" Chandra sat up straight.

"Chandra," there was a faint note of rebuke in Narada's voice. "The Holy

Trinity is constantly on the alert to deal with problems which crop up in the

three worlds. I relay their command to you – resume your daily tasks

instead of hiding at home among your wives! They will keep Ketu in order,

just as they did with Rahu."

"Is that so, Maharshi ?" Chandra asked eagerly.

"Yes," Narada reassured him. "Set out fearlessly on your journey: the

Trimurti will keep Ketu at bay!"

"I am blessed indeed, Maharshi!" Chandra exclaimed happily.

Ketu frowned up at the night sky in puzzlement. "Brother Rahu, it looks

like Chandra is exulting in his daily travel …"

Meghahasa, who had accompanied his father and uncle on their nocturnal

raid, shared his bewilderment. "Uncle, it was just last night that you

tormented him in the depths of your stomach. How come he is now lording

it over the sky as if he does not have a care in the world? How can Chandra

be so courageous?"

‘All the better for us, Meghahasa," Rahu gave a sinister smile. "Surya and

Chandra are vulnerable to attack only when they roam about fearlessly in

the sky. Also remember, they are obliged to carry out their daily duties

without fail."

"Very well," Ketu rubbed his hands in glee. "Let me at them!"

Rahu and Meghahasa embraced Ketu and cheered him on.

Ketu zoomed into the sky and turned back to wave jauntily at the father and

son.

"May victory be yours, brother! May victory be yours!" Rahu shouted after

him.

Ketu streaked towards Chandra like a dark banner of smoke.

Ketu reached Chandra's ordained path and lay in ambush behind a thick,

white cloud. He peered out furtively at the approaching graha .

Chandra continued on his way across the sky, putting up a brave front to

conceal the stark fear in his heart. He held on desperately to his faith in the

Trimurti . Try as he might, he could not forget his terrible agony at Ketu's

hands the previous night.

"Proceed fearlessly on your journey. The Trinity will keep Ketu at bay …"

Narada's remembered words of courage were lost in the hideous echo of

Ketu's taunting laughter. Chandra looked about him in alarm – like fire

billowing from a curtain of smoke, Ketu's dark face grimaced at him from

behind a white cloud!

Ketu jumped out of hiding and dashed towards Chandra: only to come to a

screeching halt! There before him stood the Trimurti , forming a vast,

impenetrable barrier between the asura and Chandra. Their serene smiles

surpassed the light of the moon in radiance.

"Ketu," said Lord Brahma, without prelude. "It is time to reveal the secret

of your birth. You are a demigod with the traits of a rakshasa . Your mother

is the goddess Mrthyu. We are here to anoint you as a Navagraha, along

with Surya, Chandra and the others."

"Ketu," Lord Shiva's words carried implicit warning, "do not waste the

boons I granted you through Meghahasa by rashly swallowing Surya and

Chandra!"

Lord Vishnu spoke up in his turn: "Your decapitation at my hands was

ordained. Lord Shiva's boons have addressed your loss and restored your

head to your body. Being consumed by hatred will in no way contribute to

your future status. Set aside your obsession with swallowing Chandra and

Surya."

"Forgive my interruption," Ketu asked ominously, "what about my sworn

oath to exact vengeance on Chandra and Surya in perpetuity? What about

my promise to my mother and my wife?"

"We are willing to arrive at a compromise so that you can keep your

promise to your mother – just as we did in the case of your brother, Rahu."

Sri Mahavishnu said. "You may also satisfy your desire for revenge by

swallowing Surya and Chandra for a limited period of time a few times a

year – of course, without endangering the three worlds."

"Ketu, this compromise is our unanimous decision." Lord Shiva advised the

asura with a reassuring smile.

"Accept it and be happy," Lord Brahma added his persuasion.

Ketu bowed before the Three. "I accept your proposal with respect. My

brother and I will take turns to swallow Surya on a new moon day, and

Chandra on a full moon night."

"So be it!" the Trimurti chorused in benediction.

Ketu saluted them devotedly He then turned to Chandra with a triumphant

gleam in his eyes and departed with the satisfaction of having carved a

victory for himself.

The Holy Trinity vanished and Chandra was left to continue on his journey,

spreading his cool light over the dark skies with renewed vigor.

Ketu returned to an affectionate welcome from Rahu, Meghahasa, Simhika,

Danudevi, Simhidevi and Chitraleka, who stood waiting expectantly at the

entrance to Kasyapa's hermitage.

Rahu rushed to embrace Ketu. The two asuras clapped each other on the

shoulder and erupted into loud guffaws of triumphant laughter. The sound

of their merriment, as they celebrated their victory, resounded like the

thunder clap caused by the friction between two dark storm clouds. The

duos' exultant glee was contagious: soon, the entire company of seven was

roaring with uncontrollable mirth and Kasyapa's ashram shook with their

laughter.

Kasyapa prajapti, accompanied by Aditi, Vinata, Kadru, Diti and his other

wives, came running at the loud commotion. The merry-makers were so

absorbed in their mirth that they were oblivious to the arrival of the

newcomers.

"Danu … Simhika!" Aditi called out to her younger sisters.

Aditi's sharp reprimand brought Danu and Simhika to abrupt sobriety and

they turned to her in one accord. One by one, the others ceased their

laughter. Kasyapa prajapati frowned at the merry group in bewilderment.

Ketu had returned from his mission without swallowing Chandra, who

continued to glow complacently in the sky above: why then this raucous

celebration?

"Meghahasa," Kasyapa summoned his grandson.

"Grandfather," Meghahasa obediently came to stand before Kasyapa. His

cheeks were wet with tears of glee.

"Why are you all in fits of laughter, my boy?"

"Grandfather, like my father, uncle Ketu has also obtained boons from the

Trimurti ," Meghahaasa replied with a satisfied smile.

"Is that so?" Kasyapa turned to Ketu. "What boons have you received,

Ketu?"

Ketu, beaming with happy pride, obligingly recounted the course of events

which had culminated in his agreement with the Trimurti .

"This means that you two will swallow Surya and Chandra for a limited

period, a few times each year," Aditi said thoughtfully.

"This pact is an excellent compromise" exclaimed Kasyapa in relief. "You

are both my sons … and so is Surya! I have spent sleepless nights worrying

that I am poking my eyes with my own fingers!" Kasyapa smiled. ‘Again,

Chandra is also kin to us: he is the son of Sage Atri, who is a

maanasaputra, and one of my father's brothers."

"Father," Rahu said solemnly, "we took all aspects of the situation into

consideration before we accepted the Trimurti’s proposal."

"That gives me great satisfaction, my son! Like Surya and Chandra, you

two have attained eminent positions. You will be worshipped by the three

worlds. I wholeheartedly appreciate your achievements and bless you!"

Kasyapa prajapati’s eyes brimmed with affection.

"I deserve your appreciation too, Swami ," Simhika said with a smile. "After

all, it is my son who has proved his worth!"

"So has my son," Danudevi embraced Ketu.

Not to be left out, Meghahasa came forward to hold his grandfather's hands.

"Bless me too, grandfather," he said. "It was I who propitiated Lord Shiva

with my penance and obtained boons for your sons."

Kasyapa drew Meghahasa into his warm embrace. "My sons and grandsons

are earning fame and greatness! It is the will of the Supreme God and my

own good fortune!"

Rahu and Ketu burst into pleased laughter once more.

‘And that, in short, is the story of Ketu's life." Nirvikalpananda wound up

this segment of his narration.

"It is rather brief, master," Chidananda remarked with a smile.

"I have given you all the available information on Ketu, my boy."

Nirvikalpananda pointed out carefully: "Though his life history may not be

as long as that of the other grahas, he definitely holds his own with them in

the power he possesses."

"Master," asked Shivananada, "have we come to the end of the history of

the Navagrahas ?"

"Shivananda," Nirvikalpananda retorted with an indulgent smile, "do you

think so?"

The four young disciples looked at their master in expectant curiosity.

"We have seen the Navagrahas born, reach maturity and equip themselves

with the various strengths which qualify them for their status. But, there is

much more to it: their specific positions have to be determined; their duties

ordained –they must be anointed!" Nirvikalpananda explained. "The history

of the Navagrahas will not be complete without these details."

Vimalananda looked at his friends in excited anticipation. "So, our master

will now describe the anointing of the Navagrahas!"

"Bowing to the Trimurti’s command, Sage Narada invited all the gods to the

Anointing of the Navagrahas .

"Surya, Chandra, Kuja, Budha, Brhaspati, Sukra, Sani, Rahu, Ketu and their

wives were the special invitees. The Navagrahas ' parents were also there,

of course. Narada summoned the daityas and daanavas too. At Brahma's

suggestion, Narada invited Svaayambhuva Manu and his faithful wife

Satarupadevi …"

Nirvikalpananda continued his discourse.

The Anointment of the Navagrahas

C ool breezes from the sparkling waters of the Ocean of Milk wafted

pleasantly over the august assembly gathered on its shores. The company's

innate radiance lit up the ambience like the glow of a thousand lamps. A

tide of cheerful good-will washed over the gods and their consorts as they

waited to witness the anointment of the Navagrahas .

The mammoth court was filled to capacity. Sri Mahavishnu and Goddess

Lakshmi occupied places of honour on the court's elevated dais, with

Brahma and Saraswati on one side, and Shiva and Parvati on the other.

Indra and the other devas , along with their consorts, sat in a long row

below the dais. Facing across from them were the Brahma maanasaputras

and their wives, with the sages forming the third line of the triad.

The protagonists of the coming ceremony – Surya, Chandra, Kuja, Budha,

Brhaspati, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu, sat apart in a row of their own.

Their wives –Samjna, Aswini and her twenty-six sisters, Saktidevi, Ila,

Taara, Urjaswati, Jyeshtaadevi, Simhidevi and Chitralekha, were in the

gathering, beaming on their husbands in happy pride.

Near the Holy Trinity stood nine ornate gold thrones, waiting expectantly

for their special occupants.

Brahma closed his eyes in silent meditation. He then turned to Lord Vishnu.

"Father, the auspicious moment has dawned. Please begin."

Lord Vishnu embraced the great council with the warmth of his radiant

smile. His deep voice caressed the ears of the gathering, drowning out the

tides dashing on the shores of the Ocean of Milk.

"The incarnation of the Navagrahas in physical form is a significant step in

the rich progression of creation which flourishes in every kalpa. At the start

of creation, it occurred to me that it would be beneficial if the Navagrahas ,

who were in their astral forms, were to be born with gross physical bodies:

this would facilitate their tangible worship by humans who seek their mercy

and favour."

Sri Mahavishnu paused and gestured regally with his right hand. "In

accordance with the dictates of my will, I present to you the new physical

manifestation of the Nine Navagrahas!" The entire assembly of gods,

maanasaputras and sages turned in one accord to gaze in silent admiration

at Surya and his company of grahas who, in turn, folded their hands in

respectful salutation to the gathering.

Again, Lord Vishnu's rich voice resonated above the crashing of the ocean

waves. "The Navagrahas’ order of significance has been determined by

taking into consideration Brahma and Shiva's suggestions. Individual

powers and duties have been assigned to them, corresponding to their

respective strengths and abilities." He continued. "I will now invite them to

the dais, one by one, in that ordained order. Each graha will come up and

occupy his golden throne according to his sequence of merit."

An excited murmur ran through the mammoth court. Vishnu smiled

benignly at the sea of upturned faces and launched into his dignified

summons.

"The first among the Navagrahas is Surya!"

The enthusiastic applause of the audience sounded a triumphant background

score, as Surya rose, folded his hands in salutation to the assembly, and

walked in sedate dignity towards the gleaming row of golden thrones. He

seated himself majestically on the first throne.

"The second of the grahas is Chandra!" Vishnu's voice echoed along the

shore of the Ocean of Milk.

"The third is Kuja!" "The fourth –Budha!" "The fifth –Brhaspati!" "The

sixth –Sukra!" "The seventh –Sanaischara!" "The eighth –Rahu!" "And the

ninth –Ketu!"

The eight grahas answered Vishnu's summons in turn and took their

assigned places on the dais. All eyes were glued to the Navagrahas , now

seated in splendid array on their golden thrones, adorned with the nine

precious gems.

"In recognition of his position as the preceptor of the gods, and his towering

intellect, Brhaspati shall be popularly known as the 'Guru,'" Sri Mahavishnu

announced to warm applause.

"Nine grains and nine gems stand out in importance in nature's design. Each

graha will be awarded sovereignty over a particular grain and a specific

gem."

Sri Mahavishnu turned to Brahma and Shiva. "I call upon Brahma to

announce the jurisdiction of the respective Navagrahas over each grain and

Shiva to proclaim their dominion over each of the Nine Gems."

Brahma bowed to Vishnu and proclaimed: "Surya will assume sovereignty

over wheat, Chandra over paddy and Kuja over red gram. Green gram will

come under Budha, other grams under Guru, and awnless barley under

Sukra. Sani will exercise his dominion over sesame, Rahu over black gram

and Ketu over horse gram." He paused. "Each of these will be the preferred

grain of the respective grahas –who in turn will command their favourite

grain. This is will of the Holy Trinity!"

"I will now list the particular gems over which each graha will exercise

authority…" Shiva spoke up in his turn, extending his hand in benediction

over the Navagrahas. "Surya –Ruby, Chandra –Pearl, Kuja –Coral, Budha –

Emerald, Guru –Yellow sapphire, Sukra –Diamond, Sani –Blue sapphire,

Rahu –Hessonite and Ketu –Cymophane."

Shiva gestured with his hand. A gasp of wonder ran through the spectators

at the miracle which unfolded before their astonished eyes: precious gems

rained down on the Navagrahas ! A shower of rubies fell on Surya, while

Chandra was covered with pearls. Kuja, Budha, Guru and Sukra were

bathed in streams of corals, emeralds, yellow sapphires and diamonds,

respectively. Blue sapphires cascaded down on Sani, hessonite on Rahu and

cymophane on Ketu.

Thunderous claps and cheers roared through the court. The Navagrahas

sparkled in multi hued splendor under their sparkling coats of precious

gems. Vishnu and Brahma smiled appreciatively at Shiva's dazzling display

of the navaratnas .

Shiva turned to Vishnu. "Srihari, every group must have a leader: do decide

who is to govern the Navagrahas ."

Lord Vishnu nodded in agreement. "Shiva is right: the Navagrahas must be

ruled by a king. At this auspicious moment, I would like to decide who

among them is worthy of being elevated to this position of command …"

Vishnu let his eyes measure each of the grahas in turn. An expectant hush

fell over the gathering. The Navagrahas waited in silence. Rahu and Ketu

bent forward attentively.

Sri Mahavishnu's words split the silence like a thunder-clap. "I hereby

appoint Surya as the king of the grahas: he will enjoy the title, Graharaju

Surya rose to the sound of deafening applause and bowed respectfully

towards the Trimurti. With two notable exceptions, the other grahas joined

in the general acclamation of Surya as their king. Rahu and Ketu remained

unmoved by the ovation.

Chandra shouted, "Victory to Surya, the King of the Grahas!"

"Victory to Surya, the King of the Grahas!" The entire assembly joyously

echoed Chandra's acclamation. Rahu and Ketu shut their ears to block out

the hails of triumph which rent the air.

Suddenly, unable to tolerate it any further, Rahu jumped to his feet and

shouted: "Stop it!" His face was dark with fury. "Enough of your senseless

cheers!" Rahu strode angrily towards the Holy Trinity, with Ketu fuming at

his heels.

"Rahu!" Lord Shiva called him to order. "What is the meaning of this

behavior?"

"Yes, Bhagavan,” Rahu cried out in a rage. "My rude behavior has

significance: it highlights Vishnu's partiality."

"Rahu …" Vishnu's eyes widened in surprise.

"Don't play the innocent with me, Vishnu," Rahu spat at him. "You have

favoured Surya and made him the king of the grahas only because he was

born from your attribute!"

"Rahu, this is a preposterous accusation!" Brahma intervened quickly. "The

king of the grahas was chosen on the strength of his merit, strength and

capabilities –not out of any kind of favoritism."

Ketu's loud laughter dripped with sarcasm as he said: "Of course you would

jump to Vishnu's defence –after all, he is your father!"

"If we were also Aditi's sons, we would not have been subjected to this

discrimination and humiliation," Rahu complained.

There was pandemonium in the assembly as the asuras ' accusations

became the subject of animated discussion.

Lord Vishnu rose and held out his hand for silence. "Rahu," he said gravely,

"Your allegation of bias has no foundation. My decision to appoint Surya as

the king of the grahas was based on his proficiency and the all-

encompassing affection he lavishes on the three worlds." He continued

emphatically: "Surya is the central force of the Navagrahas. He is the

power which provides the energy essential for the growth of food and life in

all the worlds …"

"We, Rahu and Ketu, are powerful in our own right, Vishnu," Ketu

interrupted angrily. "Lord Shiva has blessed us with power and status equal

to that of Surya and Chandra."

"Careful, Ketu!" Shiva stood up. "Do not demean your power and position.

In the eyes of the Trimurti, and indeed that of the entire universe, all the

grahas enjoy equal stature."

"Bhagavan,” Ketu shouted, "that is what you say … but, contrary to your

stand, Vishnu insists on demonstrating his partiality towards Surya!"

"I for one refuse to bow abjectly to Vishnu's decree," Rahu proclaimed

defiantly. "I will not accept Surya as our king. If, in your opinion, he is best

suited to be the king, prove that he is more powerful than us … or else,

prove that we are powerless!"

"I agree with my brother, Rahu," Ketu declared haughtily. "Give us

conclusive proof of Surya's superiority!"

"Yes," challenged Rahu. "Give us proof of Surya's strength … the Surya

who is so afraid of us that he cowers behind the handicapped Aruna,

shamelessly using him as a shield!"

"Surya gives energy for food … Surya gives energy for life … Ha, ha ha …

" Ketu laughed in derision. "We too have those powers. We proved our

might by swallowing him!" Rahu joined his brother's sarcastic mirth.

Sage Kasyapa, distressed by Rahu and Ketu's blatant display of arrogance,

rose to intervene. However, Aditi dissuaded him with a meaningful pressure

on his hand.

"Very well, Rahu," Sri Mahavishnu said serenely, "we agree to your

proposal."

"It is not a proposal, Vishnu," Rahu said contemptuously. "It is a

challenge!"

"Have it as you will," Vishnu remained unruffled. "Now, I will give you an

opportunity to demonstrate your power and skills."

Vishnu turned to Brahma. "Brahma, create a sapling for Rahu and Ketu."

Closing his eyes in obedience to Sri Mahavishu's command, Brahma

extended his hand and exercised the power of his will. Instantaneously, a

small sapling appeared in a golden pot. Its tender, green leaves quivered in

the breeze from the Ocean of Milk.

"Rahu and Ketu," Vishnu said gravely, "you see the sapling before you. You

have claimed to have the power to generate the energy essential for life and

sustenance. Here is your chance to prove your worth: emit rays of energy

and make the sapling grow. This is the test you must pass."

Ketu laughed loudly and gave a snort of contempt. "Such a trifling task

does not require our combined effort. My elder brother, the formidable

Rahu, is perfectly capable of accepting and winning your challenge

singlehandedly!"

Rahu patted Ketu's shoulder in affectionate approval and laughed

uproariously.

"Brother," urged Ketu, "prove your mighty strength –let waves of energy

gush forth from you!"

The entire assembly leaned forward in one accord, holding their breaths in

anticipation. Rahu approached the sapling. With a look of disdain at Vishnu,

he gave the sapling a penetrating glance. Rays of energy burst from the

asura 's eyes and bathed the tender leaves in harsh ultraviolet light. Right

under the gaze of the fascinated onlookers, the sapling wilted –the green

quickly leached away from its leaves, leaving the withered plant bent feebly

over the rim of its golden pot.

Ketu gave a hiss of regret and placed his hand in sympathy on Rahu's

shoulder. Rahu turned from his brother to look at the sapling which was

slowly dying. His eyes mirrored the defeat in Ketu's eyes.

As Rahu's defeat sank in, the assembly was in an uproar.

"Ketu," Vishnu called out gravely to the asura. "Now, you may attempt the

test."

Rahu staggered towards his throne, head bent under the heavy burden of

defeat. Ketu, sticking to his brother like a dark shadow, continued to follow

him, turning a deaf ear to Lord Vishnu's challenge. The assembly buzzed

with the excitement of the asuras ' ignominious defeat.

Vishnu turned to Surya and commanded, "Surya, nurture that sapling with

your life-giving energy. Let your rays shine forth!"

Surya rose to his feet obediently. He respectfully saluted the Trinity and

turned to the plant. Gentle beams of light fell on the sapling … minutes

passed … a current of energy pulsated through the feeble, withered plant. A

flush of pale green spread over the tiny, faded leaves. The sapling

straightened, and stood tall and fresh, glowing with the absorbed vigor of

sunlight. Surya ceased his outpouring of energy.

"Victory to Surya, the King of the Grahas ! Victory to the Graharaju !" the

gathering erupted into rapturous cheers of acclaim.The Trimurti smiled

benignly at the thousand voices raised in emphatic ratification of their

decision.

Rahu and Ketu bowed their heads in shame. As the cheers subsided, sage

Kasyapa went up to the two brothers and gazed compassionately at their

downcast faces.

A gentle smile played across Kasyapa prajapati’s face. His voice was kind.

"Rahu … Ketu, lift your chins and stand tall. Salute the Trinity and

apologize for your arrogance. Gracefully accept your brother and fellow–

graha, Surya, as your rightful king and accord him due respect. By this, you

will keep intact your honour as one of the demigods."

Rahu and Ketu paid heed to their father's wise counsel. They respectfully

saluted the Trinity. Next, they approached Surya and expressed their regrets

with folded hands. Surya favoured them with a radiant smile. The chastened

brothers quietly returned to their assigned thrones.

"The objective of this contest was not to glorify Surya, or to demean his

brothers, Rahu and Ketu." Lord Vishnu was explicit. ‘All the Navagrahas

are imbued with equal importance, with each of them possessing his own

unique power and strength. The Nine Grahas will have tremendous

significance on the life of all beings in the universe."

"Brahma and I are in accord with Vishnu," Shiva added with a smile.

"Rahu and Ketu, blinded by jealousy and anger, could not understand the

basis of our decision." Sri Mahavishnu elaborated. "Surya's light and heat

are essential for life and he is the source of all nourishment. Trees, creeper

and crops absorb his light to retain their life-sustaining green foliage.

Sunlight is the fount of health and sustenance. This is the reason we have

appointed Surya as the king of the grahas." Vishnu decreed: "Henceforth,

humans will adopt the ritual of offering the food grains cultivated by them

to Surya first and foremost."

"Surya, who bestows his rays of light on all the creatures of the three

worlds without any discrimination, is best fitted to be the king of the

grahas," Shiva emphasized benignly.

"He is the unanimous choice of the Trimurti,” Brahma added his voice to

that of the other two.

Chandra, Kuja, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu joined to applaud

the Trimurti.

"Father," Brahma reminded Vishnu, "the time of consecration is fast

approaching."

"Indra!" Vishnu summoned the king of the devas. Indra responded promptly

and came to stand before Lord Vishnu with hands folded in reverence.

"Indra," continued Vishnu, "the consecration ceremony will begin with the

anointment of the Navagrahas with milk from the Ocean of Milk. Brahma

will conduct this auspicious rite."

"Bhagavan," Indra bowed solemnly. "In line with your command, the

nymphs are ready with golden pots brimming with milk."

At Indra's signal, gandharvas and vidyaadharas broke into glorious strains

of auspicious music. The tides of the ocean danced in rhythm to the divine

melody.

Under the aegis of Brahma, the consecration of the Navagrahas

commenced. The Seven Sages chanted the Vedic mantras, as decreed by the

Creator. The Maharshis anointed the Navagrahas with the milk brought by

the heavenly apsaras .

As commanded by Indra, the nymphs anointed the Navagrahas’ foreheads

with the auspicious tilak, composed of red chalk collected from the shores

of the Ocean of Milk. The Navagrahas’ wives looked on in fascination at

the unfolding grandeur of their spouse's consecration. The lovely apsaras

danced in procession to the dais, holding fragrant garlands of flowers from

the kalpavrksha. At Brahma's nod, the nymphs gracefully arranged the

garlands about the Navagrahas’ necks.

The Trimurti, along with their consorts, stepped forward to shower their

blessings on the Navagrahas with the ritual akshata. The grahas accepted

the rain of auspicious grain and flowers with reverentially folded hands and

bowed heads.

"Srihari," Shiva said magnanimously, "I will anoint Surya as the king of the

grahas with amrita ."

"Surya is fortunate indeed," replied Vishnu with a smile.

Soon, everything was in readiness for Surya's elevation as the king of the

grahas. Surya sat on an ornate gold throne, under the canopy of a pristine

white umbrella. He was flanked on either side by the other eight grahas ,

seated on a level lower to his own throne.

The Trimurti and their consorts took their places on the dais beside Surya.

Indra, with his wife at his side, climbed the steps to the platform, bearing

the pot of amrita in his hands.

Lord Shiva solemnly anointed Surya with the divine nectar, accompanied

by the chant of Vedic mantras in the background. He adorned Surya's neck

with the garland of lotus blossoms which Sachidevi handed him. Vishnu

and Mahalakshmi, Brahma and Saraswati, Shiva and Parvati and Indra and

Sachidevi came forward in turn to shower him with akshata as a symbol of

blessing.

The assembly erupted into cheers, acknowledging the newly anointed king

of the grahas . The waves of the Ocean of Milk seemed to echo their

jubilation as they dashed joyously on the shores.

The seated gods came to their feet to form two rows facing each other. The

parallel lines of devas and their consorts were like strings of multi-hued

blossoms. In their hands were fragrant flowers. Suddenly, everyone pricked

up their ears: the sound of horses' hooves sounded in the distance, gradually

becoming louder. All eyes turned towards the golden chariot which

materialized in the distance and made its way majestically towards them.

Seven handsome stallions drew the vehicle. Miraculously, the chariot glided

by smoothly on a single wheel. Surya was ensconced in stately dignity on a

lotus-shaped seat in the center of the chariot, Aruna glowing before him as

his charioteer.

Surya's glittering chariot approached the lines of waiting gods. The red

umbrella above the chariot added its sparkle to the lustre of the equipage. A

crimson flag fluttered bravely in the wind. The Trimurti and their consorts,

who stood in the vanguard of the two rows, raised their hands in

benediction towards Surya, who was radiant in red garments and wore a

garland of red lotuses. The brilliance emanating from his body enhanced the

gleam of the chariot.

The Seven Sages stepped forward to chant Vedic mantras and shower

flowers on Surya.

“Japaakusuma samkaasam Kaasyapeyam Mahaadyutim!

Tamorim Sarvapaapaghnam pranatosmi Divaakaram!”

I offer my salutations to Divaakara (Surya), who shines like the japa

flower, who is the son of Kasyapa, who is resplendent, who is the

enemy of darkness, and who is the destroyer of all sins.

A host of voices sang of Surya's glory, while all eyes drank in the delight of

his radiant person and equipage. Surya's chariot passed regally between the

two lines of gods and came to a standstill at a designated spot beyond.

Silence once again filled the arena.

All heads turned towards the clip-clop of horses' hooves, which grew

increasingly louder.

A three-wheeled, golden chariot appeared in the distance, drawn by ten

white horses, their manes streaming in the wind like a froth of milk. A

white umbrella crowned its top and a pristine white flag waved in the wind

blowing from the Ocean of Milk.

Chandra, clothed in gleaming white and wearing a garland of white

blossoms, sat in the chariot. The spectators were captivated by the charming

picture he presented.

The Seven Sages took up their verse in praise of Chandra, who was as white

as curd … as the conch-shell… as snow!

“Dadhi sankha tushaaraabham ksheerodaarnava sambhavam!

Namaami sasinam Somam Sambhormakuta bhooshanam!"

I offer my salutations to Sasi who is known as Soma (Chandra) who

shines like curds, the conch and snow, who rose from the Ocean of

Milk, who is the ornament on Sambhu’s (Lord Shiva) crown.

The assembly of gods echoed Chandra's glory and showered multi-coloured

flowers on him, as he made his stately passage of honour between them.

Chandra's golden chariot halted beside Surya's.

To the onlookers' delight, the next golden chariot quickly hovered into view.

Eight horses, sparkling red like rubies, pulled the two-wheeled vehicle. The

umbrella at its peak was a gleaming red and a red ensign fluttered in the

breeze. Kuja, the son of the earth goddess –he who had received the eternal

name, Angaaraka, sat in this chariot. Attired in blood-red garments, Kuja's

fiery complexion was complemented by a garland of scarlet flowers. A

shower of blossoms fell on Angaaraka Kuja, who appeared to the

spectators' eyes as a precious ruby embedded in gleaming gold. A pleasing

radiance emanated from him, bathing the surroundings in a warm glow of

light.

‘‘Dharanee garbha sambhootam vidyut kaanti samaprabham!

Kumaaram sakti hastham tam Mangalam pranamaamyaham!”

I offer my salutations to Mangala (Kuja) who is born from the womb of

the Earth, who is resplendent like lightning, who is (called) Kumara,

and who holds the weapon, Sakti, in his hand.

The gods and their consorts devotedly repeated the sloka recited in Kuja's

homage by the Seven Sages. Angaaaraka made his solemn way past the

admiring gods, to stop beside Surya and Chandra.

Next, a gleaming, orange-brown, two-wheeled equipage emerged from the

distance, sporting an ornate, yellow umbrella. Eight tawny horses galloped

in perfect unison under its shaft. Its turmeric-coloured standard waved

proudly in the wind.

Budha held his position in this chariot, a benign smile on his face. His

captivating good looks, which surpassed even Chandra in handsomeness,

drew an admiring gasp from the spectators. He wore garments of sparkling

yellow.

"Priyangu kalikaasyaamam roopenaa apratimam Budham!

Sowmyam Sowmyagunopetam tam Budhaam pranamaamyaham!”

I offer my salutations to Budha who is of dark blue complexion like the

Priyangu bud, who is wise, who is of incomparable beauty, who is

(called) Soumya and who is of benevolent quality.

The glorious invocation to Budha was recited by the Seven Sages, to be

echoed in chorus by the assembled gods. A rain of flowers accompanied

Budha on his passage, as he sedately moved on to join the grahas who had

preceded him.

In quick succession, Guru's chariot of mellow gold claimed everyone's

attention. A panoply of golden hues greeted their wondering eyes: Guru sat

in his seat, attired in gold  a golden halo of wisdom emanated from him.

His aureate flag glimmered above the brilliant umbrella which sheltered

him. The two-wheeled vehicle was drawn by eight, perfectly matched

stallions of unblemished white. The chariot passed between the two rows of

waiting gods.

The Seven Sages sprinkled the auspicious akshata and flowers on him as

they intoned:

‘‘Devaanaamcha rushinaamcha Gurum kaanchana sannibham!

Buddhimantam trilokesam tam namaami Brhaspatim!”

I offer my salutations to Brhaspati, who is the preceptor of the gods

and sages, who is resplendent like gold, who is the personification of

wisdom and who is the lord of the three worlds.

The devas responded with special enthusiasm to their preceptor's

ceremonial passage. The shower of flowers increased to become a veritable

downpour of affection. As they stood looking fondly after his equipage, the

sound of unknown wheels compelled their attention.

Ten white horses cantered ahead of a glorious chariot, shining like molten

gold. Sukra, all in white, sat majestically on his seat of flaming aureate. A

garland of white flowers glowed round his neck. His ensign and umbrella

were dazzling white, rivalling the waves of the Ocean of Milk in their

pristine purity.

The Seven Sages received Sukra's equipage with their paean of glory to

him:

‘‘Himakunda mrnaalaabham daityaanaam paramam gurum!

Sarvasaastra pravakaaram Bhaargavam pranamaamyaham!’’

I offer my salutations to Bhargava (Sukra) who shines like snow, like

the Kunda flower and lotus fiber, who is the great preceptor of the

demons and who is the expert orator of all the scriptures.

The gods rained their flowers on the chariot and responded to the sloka with

one accord. Suddenly, their response was drowned by the thunderous roar

of a mighty horde of rakshasas. To the gods' astonishment, thousands of

asuras , invisible up to then, stood revealed in lines contiguous with those

of the devas .

The very shores of the Ocean of Milk trembled with the rakshasas '

resonating cheers for their preceptor, Sukra. Sukra smiled fondly on his

disciples, who showered him with blood-red blossoms. Sukra moved past

the lines to join the other grahas arrayed before him.

Next came a coldly gleaming iron chariot, drawn by ten horses whose

mottled bodies were smeared with a jarring mixture of dark hues. The jet-

black canopy and ensign struck terror in the hearts of the spectators, who

peered fascinatedly at its hideous rider.

Sanaischara, with his pitch-dark complexion, dressed all in black, sat

regally in this chariot, garlanded with black flowers. The dappled steeds

menacingly galloped towards the waiting crowd, making their blood run

cold.

‘‘Neelaanjana samaabhaasam Ravi putram Yamaagrajam!

Chaayaa Maartaanda sambhootham tam namaami Sanaischaram!”

I offer my salutations to Sanaischara who shines like dark blue

collyrium, who is the son of Ravi (Surya),who has Yama as his elder

brother and who is born of Chaaya and Maartaanda (Surya).

The Seven Sages performed their ritual sprinkling of the akshata and

flowers on Sani, while reciting the sloka acknowledging his glory. The

devas and rakshasas hurriedly followed suit with rather excessive fervor!

Sanaischara made his ceremonial passage through the lines of gods and

demons and came to a halt beside Sukra at the other end.

It was now Rahu's turn to make his furious appearance. He arrived in a two-

wheeled chariot, ash-cold in colour. Its eight horses surged forward like

gargantuan black bees, whirling through the air. Rahu's black canopy and

standard streamed in the wind, a fitting foil to his dark blue attire and the

blackish-blue flowers garlanding his neck.

At Rahu's approach, the Seven Sages dutifully sprinkled their akshata and

flowers and launched into their invocatory chant in his praise.

"Ardhakaayam mahaaveeram Chandraaditya vimardanam!

Simhikaa garbha sambhootam tam Raahum pranamaamyaham!”

I offer my salutations to Rahu who is half-bodied, who is distinguished

and valiant, who is the oppressor of Chandra and Aditya and who is

born from Simhika’s womb.

The suras and asuras followed the sages in their acclamation of Rahu's

glory. Rahu stormed ahead in his chariot, majestically acknowledging the

shower of flowers in his honour. He drew to a halt beside Sanaischara.

At once, the crash of Ketu's chariot wheels rose above the resounding

voices of the rakshasas hailing his elder brother, Rahu. Eight red horses

charged forward furiously, pulling a chariot which flashed by like a

vaporous trail of smoke, streaked with wisps of black and fiery red.

A garland of strangely coloured flowers gleamed round Ketu's neck, above

his motley attire. His pennant and umbrella mirrored the incongruous hues

of his attire. Ketu's body, in quirky and disparate garments, was a grotesque

picture painted in bright palaasa colour.

"Palaasa pushpa sankaasam taarakaagrahamastakam!

Roudram roudraatmakam ghoram tam Ketum pranamaamyaham!"

I offer my salutations to Ketu who shines like the palaasa flower, who

is foremost among the stars and planets, who is Roudra, whose form is

fierce and horrible.

The Seven Sages broke into their invocatory chant in praise of Ketu and

showered him with akshata and flowers. The gods and demons followed

their lead and chorused Ketu's glory. Ketu gravely drove past his rakshasa

brothers, who greeted him with raucous cheers, while raining flowers on

him.

Rahu beamed proudly at his younger brother, Ketu, who stopped his chariot

beside his own.

Now, it was the turn of the Navagrahas ' wives to walk down the

ceremonial passage formed by the gods and demons. The apsaras danced

before them, sprinkling flowers on the ground as a soft carpet for their feet.

The Navagrahas, seated in regal splendor on their chariots, smiled fondly at

their approaching spouses.

Surya's wife –Samjna, Chandra's wives –Aswini, Bharani, Krthika, Rohini,

Mrgasira, Aardhra, Punarvasu, Pushyami, Aaslesha, Makha, Purva

Phalguni, Uttara Phalguni, Hasta, Chitta, Swaati, Visakha, Anuradha,

Jyeshta, Moola, Poorvaashaada, Uttaraashaada, Sravanam, Dhanishta,

Satabhisham, Poorvaabhaadra, Uttaraabhaadra and Revati, Angaaraka's

wife –Sakti, Budha's wife –Ila, Guru's wife –Taara, Sukra's wife –

Oorjaswati, Sani's wife –Jyeshtaadevi, Rahu's wife –Simhidevi, and Ketu's

wife –Chitralekha, walked in joyous procession towards their husbands,

newly anointed as the Navagrahas.

The radiant women, beaming with pride, joined their husbands on their

respective chariots. The onlookers broke into spontaneous applause at the

glorious sight of the Navagrahas bestowing their darshan in unison with

their spouses. The Trimurti commended Viswakarma who had crafted the

Navagrahas’ divine chariots, each one faithfully mirroring the traits of their

respective owners.

Vishnu addressed the Navagrahas : "Go now and take up residence in the

abodes built for you by Viswakarma at your ordained positions in space.

Exercise your authority over the lives of all beings, in line with the

execution of your duties and obligations." Vishnu paused for emphasis. "Be

especially magnanimous to humans, by accepting their worship and

blessing them."

"Your wish is our command, Bhagavan!’’ the Navagrahas chorused in

unison.

"Surya and Chandra are already established in their beautiful palaces, where

they live with their families," Vishnu continued. "Kuja, Budha, Guru,

Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu –you will now take up abode in your own

palaces, located at the coordinates in space which your astral bodies

occupy." Vishnu smiled and gestured to the Creator. "Brahma will now

detail the positions of your respective abodes."

Brahma bowed to Vishnu and turned to the Navagrahas. "Surya, the king of

the grahas , occupies pride of place with his abode at the very centre of the

universe. This is called Surya's sphere. Chandra's sphere lies to the south-

east of Surya's orb. Angaaraka's sphere is in the south. Budha stands in the

north-east. Guru's sphere lies to Surya's north, while Sukra's orb is located

at Surya's east. Sani's sphere stands to Surya's west. Rahu has his sphere in

the south-west and Ketu lies in the north-west." Brahma looked at them

gravely. "These are the permanent positions laid down for the nine grahas."

Brahma looked meaningfully at Shiva.

Shiva, in his turn, addressed the Navagrahas : "All of you possess the

power to carry out your ordained tasks. You have been invested with

sovereignty over the kingdoms of Bharatakhanda and Bharatavarsha. You

are perfectly aware of all the relevant details of your position in your subtle

astral forms." Shiva continued seriously. "However, in your present gross

manifestations, your natures demonstrate certain inherent flaws. This is

because your physical senses exert an inevitable influence on your thoughts

and actions –pride is an overweening defect in you. Such shortcomings will

cloud your wisdom and dilute your divine attributes. In this context, it is

essential to explicitly delineate your duties, powers, positions …"

"I beg your forgiveness, Lord Shiva," Rahu interrupted haughtily. "We are

divine forms, consecrated as the Navagrahas. We remain gods, even in our

gross bodies. Yet, you accuse us of being flawed!"

"Pride?! … Flaws?! … In us?!" Ketu lifted his eyebrows in an exaggerated

parody of surprise and gave a bark of laughter.

Surya, Chandra, Kuja, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani and Rahu –in enthusiastic

approval of Ketu's words –joined his merriment.

"So, you are perfect, is it?" Lord Shiva smiled. "Well, let's see … Surya was

unable to see through Chaaya when she impersonated his wife, Samjna. Is

that not a flaw in Surya, the omniscient witness to all the actions of living

beings?"

The chastised Surya bent his head in shame.

"Coming to Chandra," Lord Shiva continued, "he was born to Atri and

Anasuya, the ideal parents. However, he eloped with his master's wife.

Again, he favoured Rohini and discriminated against his other twenty-six

wives, subjecting them to painful humiliation. Finally, he became the victim

of his father-in-law's curse which sees him afflicted by chronic tuberculosis.

Are these not defects in his character?"

Chandra hid his mortified face from the others.

"As for Kuja …" Shiva said, "Kuja was born from a drop of my perspiration

and grew up under Bhudevi's care. He presumed that he had been

abandoned by me, his father, and ignored me deliberately. He propitiated

Parvati, my wife, and obtained boons from her. He did not recognize the

truth that I am Ardhanaareeswara –Parvati and I share one, indivisible body.

He failed to comprehend that Parvati's blessings encompass my own. Is that

not ignorance?"

Shiva turned to Kuja. ‘Angaaraka, my son, what do you have to say to

that?!"

A hot flush of shame suffused Kuja's face. He folded his hands in respect

and said, "Father, I admit the truth of your words. My pride made me turn

away from you. I ask your forgiveness."

‘And what about Budha?" Shiva asked with a smile. "Budha, the son of

Chandra, and grandson of Atri and Anasuya, is undoubtedly exceptionally

wise and intelligent. Yet, he was unable of perceive that Ila was actually

Sudyumna in female form: his lust blunted his wisdom."

Budha nodded slowly in regret and bowed his head.

"Let's take Guru." Shiva was implacable. "Brhaspati is an intellectual

prodigy. Yet, he made himself a slave to lust. He raped Mamata, his brother

Utadhya's wife, in her husband's absence. Mamata was pregnant at that

time. When she subsequently gave birth to two boys, Brhaspati accepted the

second son as the product of his rape. That boy is none other than

Bharadvaaja. Is Brhaspati's heinous crime not an evident flaw in his

nature?"

Brhaspati's downcast eyes remained glued to the floor.

Shiva turned to Sukra. ‘And now we come to the preceptor of the asuras.

Sukra, an acknowledged poet and intellectual, was addicted to wine. Is that

not a defect?" Sukra nodded regretfully.

"There is more: Sukra abused his yogic power to rob Kubera, the cosmic

treasurer, of his wealth. That is also an irrefutable crime."

‘As for you, Sanaischara," Lord Shiva addressed Sani, "you did not commit

any crime –however, you hated Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami –children of

Samjna, your father's lawful wife. You were consumed by jealousy towards

Yama, your elder brother. I hope you all agree that hatred and envy are

certainly not divine virtues!"

Saniaschara bowed his head in silent acknowledgment of Lord Shiva's

accusation.

Lord Shiva confronted Rahu and Ketu and locked eyes with them. "You

have persistently questioned and criticized my opinion. Let me remind you

of your numerous transgressions. You attempted to obtain the amrita

fraudulently in the guise of devas . You swallowed Surya and Chandra,

depriving the three worlds of their life-giving rays. Your obsession with

vengeance adversely affected the welfare of all living beings. I think you

will admit that these are not actions worthy of godheads who are to be

universally worshipped."

The discomfited Rahu and Ketu could not meet Lord Shiva's piercing gaze.

Sri Mahavishnu stepped forward to address the embarrassed Navagrahas. "I

commend you for your humble acceptance of Lord Shiva's analysis."

‘After all, Father," Brahma said, with a twinkle in his eyes, "Lord Shiva is

the architect of the definitive treatise on punishment. I'm sure his analysis is

absolutely correct!"

"My analysis does not seek to emphasize the Navagrahas’ past misdeeds,"

Shiva smiled serenely. "My only intention is to point out how the physical

senses can wreak havoc on inherent virtue." Lord Shiva raised his arm in

benediction over the Navagrahas . "Today, your consecration under the

aegis of the Trimurti has cleansed you of all your past sins. You stand

before us now as divine forms, equipped with appropriate qualities. You are

the awesome Navagrahas : gods wielding formidable powers!"

"That was well said," Vishnu smiled at Shiva. "The kingdoms of humans,

Svaayambhuva Manu's progeny, are spread across the sacred land of

Bharatakhada. The Navagrahas will have dominion over these kingdom

too. Shiva will elaborate on the boundaries of your respective realms."

Shiva nodded in agreement and announced: "The foremost of the

Navagrahas, Surya, the Graharaju, will rule over the Kalinga Kingdom.

Chandra will exercise authority over the Yaamuna Kingdom and Angaaraka

over the Kingdom of Avanti. Budha is given sovereignty over Magadha,

and Guru over the Sindhu Kingdom. Sukra is to reign over the Kingdom of

Kambhoja, while Sanaischara gets command of the Sowraashtra Kingdom.

Rahu will rule the Barbara Kingdom and Ketu, the Kingdom of Antarvedi.

"The writ of the Navagrahas will prevail largely on the inhabitants of their

respective kingdoms." Lord Shiva paused. "There are twelve zodiac signs

corresponding to the constellations of stars in the sky." Shiva smiled at the

Creator. "Lord Brahma will now specify the constellations which each of

the grahas will command."

"All beings, particularly humans, have strong connections with the twelve

zodiac signs, depending on their time of birth. Each sign of the zodiac will

come under the command of a particular graha . The zodiac sign of every

being is allotted according to the star under which he is born. As the rulers

of the zodiac, you will effectively control the lives of humans and all other

beings."

Brahma completed his introduction and continued. "Please pay attention as

I enumerate the specifics of your authority over the zodiac … Surya

commands the zodiac sign Leo, and Chandra, Cancer. Angaaraka Kuja will

exercise authority over Aries and Scorpio, and Budha over Virgo and

Gemini. Guru rules Sagittarius and Pisces, and Sukra, Libra and Taurus.

Sanaischara has dominion over Capricorn and Aquarius. Rahu's command

will alternate between Libra, which comes under Sukra, and Virgo, which

Budha rules. Ketu will sometimes take charge of Gemini, which is under

the command of Budha, and sometimes of Pisces, which is Guru's fief."

Brahma concluded: "In short, the zodiac signs will exert a strong influence

over all beings and you will have a powerful impact on the zodiac."

‘Aditya, Soma, Mangala, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu," Sri

Mahavishnu looked at each of them in turn. "I have a directive for you … I

willed the astral Navagrahas to be incarnated with gross bodies to facilitate

your worship by all beings, especially humans. Consequently, you were

born with physical bodies to ideal parents and have been anointed as the

Navagrahas .

"The humans whose lives depend on your influence, will worship, serve

and honor you devotedly, in order to ensure that you look upon them

favorably. In the days to come, they will erect magnificent temples in your

honour and install you there in idol form –imbuing these idols with the

power of your invocation. They will attempt to appease you with ablutions

and rites. I command you to accept their offerings and bless them in return.

Fulfill my will which gave you your glorious gross manifestations."

Sri Mahavishnu raised his hand in benediction: "You may now depart for

your abodes. May good fortune be yours!"

"May good fortune be yours!" Brahma and Shiva echoed in unison.

"So be it!" chorused the Seven Sages, maanasaputras and devas.

Surya folded his hands and saluted the Trimurti , his parents and elders.

Anoora prompted the horses –Surya's chariot moved forward resolutely.

The other grahas in turn bowed in gratitude, folded their hands in reverence

and signaled exultantly to their steeds. The Navagrahas’ chariots moved in

solemn procession and then diverged towards the direction of their

respective spheres.

The fascinated onlookers stared at the gleaming chariots until they became

distant beams of light.

Nirvikalpananda smiled at his four disciples. "That completes our account

of the Navagrahas’ consecration. While listening to the Puranas, it is

normal to question many things." One of the boys stirred. "Sadananda, if

you have any doubts, do not hesitate to voice them."

"A small doubt, master," Sadananda replied. "The first seven grahas , from

Surya to Sanaischara, command their own exclusive zodiac signs. However,

Rahu and Ketu do not have independent sovereignty over any sign. How

can this be, if all the grahas are supposedly equal?"

"Excellent reasoning!" applauded Nirvikalpananda. "Except in the matter of

lacking independent command over the zodiac signs, Rahu and Ketu are

equal to their peers in all other respects. It must be admitted that many

astrologers and sages insist that they are shadow-planets –this may be the

reason for not allotting them authority over their own zodiac signs."

He continued: "Another relevant factor here is that, based on geography,

there are various conflicting theories regarding Rahu and Ketu's dominion

over the zodiac signs. The Telugu people believe that Rahu commands

Libra, and Ketu commands Gemini. But, in fact, Sukra rules Libra and

Budha, Gemini. On the other hand, the people of Karnataka believe that

Rahu has sovereignty over Virgo, and Ketu over Pisces. But, the truth is that

Budha commands Virgo, and Guru commands Pisces."

Nirvikalpananda smiled serenely at his disciples. "By right, it is the

astrologers' duty to analyze these divergent theories and arrive at a logical

conclusion –we'll leave it to them, shall we?!"

"Master," Shivananda said. "You have given us a gripping account of the

Navagrahas’ consecration.We have also heard about their sovereignty over

the Nine Gems and Nine Grains. However, people say that the Navagrahas

also have dominion over particular trees –is this correct?"

"Yes," the master admitted, "the Navagrahas rule over nine kinds of trees. It

is generally acknowledged that one has a soft corner for things under one's

command: so, these trees are recognized as being the favourites of the

respective grahas. In fact, our scriptures hold that the Navagrahas also have

their favourite metals and tastes, along with the gems, grains and trees.

"Coming to the trees, Surya's favourite is the Jilledu (gigantic swallow

wort) and Chandra's is the Moduga (butea frondosa). Angaaraka prefers the

Chandra (mimosa catechu), and Budha the Uthareni (prickly chaff flower

plant). The Aswattha (Peepal tree) is dear to Guru, and the Udumbara (fig

tree) to Sukra. The Jammi (bulrush tree) is special for Sanaischara, and the

Garika (bent grass) and the Darbha (sacrificial grass) for Rahu for Ketu

respectively. Among these, Garika and Darbha are not trees, but grasses."

"Master," asked Sadananda, "is there any particular reason to consider these

trees and grasses as the Navagrahas ' favourites?"

Nirvikalpananda said thoughtfully, "Perhaps the medicinal properties of

these plants is the underlying reason for their selection. The special quality

of the air which touches these plants, the medicinal benefits derived from

the smoke, and the smell they emit when burned in the homam – these

could explain their elevated status.

"This is the greatest glory of our spiritual inheritance, our way of thought

and our traditions. Each god has a particular animal as his vehicle; each god

has a particular tree as his favourite. What is the unspoken significance

behind these messages?

"We unanimously worship and adore the gods. In the same way, we should

cherish those animals which serve as their vehicles. In effect, we are subtly

told not to hunt animals for food, or as a pastime. We are exhorted to refrain

from destroying the trees which the gods hold close to their hearts. This is

the golden message conveyed by our inimitable scriptures and traditions.

"Now, let us look at the various metals with respect to the Navagrahas:

Surya's favourite metal is copper and Chandra's, bronze. Kuja prefers gold,

and Budha, brass, bronze and pewter. Gold and silver are special to Guru,

and silver to Sukra. Saniaschara favours iron, and Rahu and Ketu, lead.

"When we consider the various tastes, it is spicy for Surya, salty for

Chandra, bitter for Kuja, savory for Budha, sweet for Guru, sour for Sukra,

and bitter for Sanaischara, Rahu and Ketu."

"Master," asked Chidananda, "am I correct in assuming that we must

worship the Navagrahas with offerings of their favourite tree or grass, their

preferred metal and the foods that reflect their particular tastes?"

"Yes, my son," Nirvikalpananda emphasized. "Let us take a practical

example: suppose I am fond of cheese and creamy curd … whenever you

find them, you are likely to bring them to me. Why would you do this?"

"Obviously because you like cheese and curds, master!" Shivananda smiled.

"Very well," said Nirvikalpananda, with a twinkle in his eyes. "If you give

me something I cherish, what will I give you in return?"

The disciples remained in expectant silence.

"I will give you what you like!" the master chuckled. "Yes, master!" his

pupils chorused happily.

"It is the same with our spiritual beliefs. When a devotee worships god by

offering him his favourite things, god will reciprocate by granting the

devotee what he likes. It is a simple matter of mutual exchange. This is the

reason why our wise and virtuous ancestors noted the favourite flowers,

foods, plants, etc. of the respective gods and passed on this precious

knowledge to succeeding generations."

"Master, you have indeed enlightened us!" Vimalananda's face glowed with

joy.

"Our narrative has covered the birth and life of the Navagrahas ."

Nirvikalpananda returned to his subject. "We will now go on to hear of the

glories of the Nine Planets. With that, our Navagraha Purana will be

completed.

"The Trimurti blessed the Navagrahas abundantly and bestowed power and

status on them –along with corresponding duties and obligations. Each and

every living being in the three worlds was subject to their influence.

Eminent historical and Puranic personages, towering intellectuals –why,

even the incarnations of the very Gods themselves, were swayed by their

impact. No one is exempt from the implacable influence of the Navagrahas.

"We will now acquaint ourselves with those whom the Navagrahas , in their

mercy, blessed with happy, prosperous lives." He paused. "We will also get

to know those unfortunate individuals who earned the Navagrahas’ wrath

and experienced untold misery and hardship in consequence. Let us begin

with Surya, the king of the grahas ."

Nirvikalpananda closed his eyes, folded his hands in devotion, and broke

into his chant glorifying Surya:

"Saptaasva rathamaaroodham prachandam Kasyapaatmajam!

Swethapadmadharam Devam! Tam Suryam! Pranamaamyaham!!’’

I offer my salutations to Surya who rides the seven horse-chariot, who

is very passionate, who is the son of Kasyapa, who holds the white

lotus and who is God.

After a pregnant pause, the master slowly opened his eyes and looked

somberly at his disciples.

"We have reached the finest part of the Navagraha Purana . We will see

how the grahas’ lives and greatness exert their inevitable influence on us.

"Surya Bhagavan, the king of the grahas, and the foremost of the Nine

Planets, constantly lavishes two priceless gifts on the three worlds –heat

and light. All living beings depend on these gifts for their health and

sustenance. In addition to heat and light, Surya is also the dispenser of

knowledge when he pleases.

"There are some notable individuals from the Puranas who propitiated

Surya and were blessed with the gift of exceptional learning. Their stories

demonstrate Surya's glory."

"Who are they, master?" asked Sadananda, bursting with curiosity.

Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently at his enthusiasm. "They are many:

Maharshi Yaajnavalkya, Anjaneya, Sri Rama, Dharmaraja, Kunti, Draupadi

and numerous others were the recipients of Surya's magnanimity. Let us

begin with the story of Maharshi Yaajnavalkya …"

Part 3

The Glory of

the Navagrahas

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The Glory of Surya

Japaakusuma Sankaasam kaasyapeyam mahaadyutim Tamorim sarva

paapaghnam pranatosmi Divaakaram!

I offer my salutations to Divaakara (Surya), who shines like the japa

flower, who is the son of Kasyapa, who is resplendent, who is the

enemy of darkness, and who is the destroyer of all sins.

"S age Yaajnavalkya was King Janaka's renowned preceptor.

The sage himself gave the monarch an account of how his own guru had

denied him instruction in Vedic knowledge…" Nirvikalpananda began.

"Master," Shivananda interrupted, "who was sage Yaajnavalkya?"

"According to our mythology, Yaajnavalkya was the son of Aalambini devi

and Devaraata. Let us see what particular knowledge he wished to acquire,

why he could not acquire it and how he managed to obtain it later. One day,

Yaajnavalkya was summoned by his guru …" Nirvikalpananda resumed his

story.

Yaajnavalkya prostrated himself before his guru and stood waiting with

folded hands. "Gurudev , I am here at your command."

"Yaajnavalkya, you have come to the end of your course of study – you

may leave," the master said.

Yaajnavalkya's eyes widened in surprise at this abrupt dismissal. "Gurudev,

you have not yet blessed me with Vedic knowledge and the Saamkhya Yoga

"You are not eligible to receive such knowledge," his master replied

peremptorily.

"Gurudev,” Yaajnavalkya asked anxiously, "have I unknowingly erred in

my actions? If so …"

He was cut off angrily by his master. "Clever riposte will not make you

eligible, Yaajnavalkya! You talk too much! Your actions have nothing to do

with my decision. It is your unfortunate fate, as ordained by planetary

alignment."

"Gurudev …"

"Enough!" his master snapped. "Be on your way!"

With one last look into his master's implacable, burning eyes, Yaajnavalkya

folded his hands and turned away. Weighted down by disappointment and

grief, he mechanically made his departure from the hermitage.

Heart-sore and weary, Yaajnavalkya wandered aimlessly through the forest.

The scorching sun beat down on him mercilessly, as he followed a narrow

track, roughly hewn by the passage of wild animals. He had no idea where

it led, nor did he have a destination. His master's harsh words echoed in his

ears: "You are not eligible to receive such knowledge!"

Yaajnavalkya stopped short. Why was he not eligible for advanced study?

On what criteria had his master based his decision? Again, his guru’s voice

thundered in his ears: "It is your unfortunate fate, as ordained by planetary

alignment."

Planetary … alignment … Yaajnavalkya came to a halt once more. If the

reason for his premature dismissal was the unfavourable alignment of the

planets, was there more to his master's words than met the eye? Had his

guru given him a hint? Was one of the Navagrahas unfavourably disposed

towards him? Was one of the planets eyeing him malignantly?

The chirping of birds roused him from his reverie. Suddenly conscious of

his sweat-drenched body and raging thirst, Yaajnavalkya made his way

towards the bird-song, which heralded the presence of water. After

quenching his thirst and bathing in the pool he found there, Yaajnavalkya

sat under the shade of a tree on the bank.

Like a coiled snake lifting its hood, the question of the adverse influence of

one of the Navagrahas rose to his mind. Yaajnavalkya closed his eyes and

recalled his horoscope, his nimble fingers moving in quick calculation. His

eyes reopened with a new gleam – yes, his master was right: Surya, the king

of the grahas, was ill-disposed towards him.

Surya's favour was a precondition to the acquisition of the Vedic knowledge

Yaajnavalkya craved. Very well – in that case, he would propitiate Surya

and earn his favour; he would invoke Surya and obtain his darshan .

Yaajnavalkya refused to be dissuaded by his preceptor's abrupt dismissal.

He looked around him: dusk was fast approaching. He decided to

commence his penance at an auspicious hour the next morning. His spirits

lifted and he smiled to himself. The magnanimous Surya would surely bless

him and help him gain the knowledge he desired. Mind at rest,

Yaajnavalkya settled down for the night under the tree.

The eastern sky flushed pink and gold with the light of dawn. The sun rose,

embracing the world with radiant arms. Yaajnavalkya, standing waist-deep

in the waters of the pond, offered his arghya , or ritual ablution, to the sun

god. He folded his hands in respectful salutation and recited the

Mahasankalpa mantra . Touched by the soft rays of the rising sun, the lotus

buds around him unfurled their tender petals. Yaajnavalkya smiled,

considering this to be a good omen for the success of his venture. Leaving

the pond, he chose a spot exposed to the sun's light from dawn to dusk and

commenced his tapas.

The days passed. The sun continued its diurnal journey from east to west,

but Yaajnavalkya remained oblivious to the transition of day and night. His

single-minded determination to succeed in his objective enabled him to

immerse himself in transcendental meditation instantly.

Yaajnavalkya lost all awareness of his physical senses: he was immune to

hunger and thirst, heat and cold, light and darkness.

Ultimately, the passage of time saw Yaajnavalkya triumph. A new glow

touched his half-closed eyes. His lids fluttered open tentatively, only to shut

in reflex at the blinding glare which assaulted his eyes.

"Yaajnavalkya!" A vibrant voice compelled his attention.

Yaajnavalkya slowly opened his eyes in response to the summons. An

awesome spectacle unfolded before him. A one-wheeled chariot, drawn by

seven handsome steeds, emerged from an orb of incredible radiance. On the

shaft was Aruna, the charioteer. Behind him, the god of a thousand rays sat

in majestic splendor, holding a pure white lotus in his hand. Attired in

gleaming red, his complexion resembled a crimson lotus in bloom. His

smile outdid the orb in brilliance.

"Om Suryaya Namaha! Om Suryaya Namaha!" Yaajnavalkya chanted the

Aaditya mantra with devotedly folded hands.

"Yaajnavalkya," the voice was honey-rich in timbre. "The keen ray of your

tapas has exerted its magnetic pull on my own thousand rays and brought

me here to grant you my darshan. What do you want from me?"

"Bhagavan, your adverse influence has resulted in my master refusing to

impart instruction to me. As a consequence, I have failed to gain the

knowledge I crave. Now, I ask you to grant me the invaluable Vedic wisdom

and the prose mantras of the Yajus. Let your benign face be turned towards

me," Yaajnavalkya prayed.

Surya smiled munificently and said, "Let's first take up your second wish –

I now withdraw my inimical influence and look on you auspiciously."

"Bhagavan,” Yaajnavalkya exclaimed, "I am indeed blessed!"

Surya continued: "Coming to your first wish, I hereby invoke the goddess

of words and knowledge and direct her to enter your body … open your

mouth and grant her access."

Gazing adoringly at Surya, Yaajnavalkya obediently opened his mouth. In

an instant, Goddess Saraswati appeared there before them. Mahaswetha

smiled at Yaajnavalkya, assumed a subtle form, and entered his mouth.

Yaajnavalkya shuddered uncontrollably as his body was consumed by a

fiery heat. In an instinctive bid for survival, the terrified Yaajnavalkya

dashed towards the pond, intending to jump into its cooling waters.

"Yaajna, stop!" Surya's thunderous warning halted him in his tracks.

"Goddess Saraswati's incomparable store of knowledge and writing has

entered your body. Its awesome power is the cause of the heat which wracks

your physique: it will soon pass. Endure it and meditate on Goddess

Saraswati."

In accordance with Surya's instruction, Yaajnavalkya folded his hands in

prayer. In a few moments, the fire which consumed him abated and a cool

wave engulfed his body, like a healing second skin over his burns.

"Yaajna," Surya said, "I am greatly pleased by your devotion, confidence

and penance. You have succeeded in turning my malignant influence into

one of magnanimity. You will acquire the Vedic knowledge which you crave

– the storehouse of the Yajus. Furthermore, I grant you knowledge of the

Saamkhya Yoga and the Satapatha Brahamana. Yaajna – your intellect will

bloom like the lotus in my hand. Goddess Saraswati will always abide in

you. Go your way – your wishes will be fulfilled."

Yaajnavalkya, moved to tears by Surya's abundant mercy, folded his hands

in reverence and said, "I am blessed, Bhagavan … truly, I am blessed."

Surya's chariot merged into the sky. In its place stood the glowing orb of the

sun.

As directed by Surya, Yaajnavalkya completed his morning rites and sat in

meditation on Goddess Saraswati in those sylvan surroundings.

Presently, the dulcet notes of a lute caressed his ears. The instrument

echoed the Nada Brahma – the Supreme God of Sound. Yaajnavalkya

opened his wondering eyes to find Goddess Saraswati, draped in pristine

white, standing before him. The primordial letter, Om, adorned her head as

a crown. She wore the letters of the Sanskrit alphabet as her ornaments.

Yaajnavalkya gazed in deep awe at the goddess, the personification of

letters, radiant in the light of learning. He prostrated himself at her holy feet

and rose to worship her with folded hands.

"Oh, Mother of Knowledge," Yaajnavalkya implored, "grant me the

knowledge of the Vedas."

"My son," Goddess Saraswati replied, "it was due to Surya's adverse impact

that you could not acquire the knowledge you desired. Now that you have

gained the favour of the king of the grahas , I am eager to impart that

knowledge to you."

"I am truly blessed, mother," Yaajnavalkya said. He worshipped her with

the ritual offering of water through the arghya, and sat devotedly at her feet.

Goddess Saraswati smiled benignly at him and said, "Yaajna, close your

eyes and focus on your meditation. Through my grace, all the learning of

the Vidyas will become clear to you."

Yaajnavalkya was blinded by the rays of splendor emanating from Goddess

Saraswati's large eyes. He closed his own eyes in instinctive obedience and

immersed himself in meditation. A deep swell of knowledge pervaded his

inner self like a divine fragrance. The fifteen branches of the Yajurveda took

up residence in his mind. Under Saamkhya Yoga, the flower of wisdom

bloomed in him. The riches of the great Satapatha Brahmana became his.

All this happened in one glorious flash.

Yaajnavalkya, filled with a sense of fulfillment, opened his eyes. Saraswati,

the Goddess of Knowledge, smiled at him as tenderly as a mother suckling

her babe. Lifting her right hand in benediction over him, Mahaswetha

disappeared.

Yaajnavalkya's eyes brimmed with tears of joy.

"Thus, as a result of Surya's benevolence, the goddess of knowledge herself

came in person to bless Yaajnavalkya with the knowledge of the Vedas and

Saamkhya Yoga. She bestowed on Yaajnavalkya the essence of the Yajur

Veda," Nirvikalpananda said. "The unparalleled wealth of knowledge

acquired by Yaajnavalkya through Goddess Saraswati's grace, under Surya's

benevolent influence, earned him a seat in the hall of fame.

"It is known that Visvavasu, a gandharva who had long struggled to find

logical answers to fifteen extremely difficult questions, was able to obtain

satisfying answers from Sage Yaajnavalkya. In time, Yaajnavalkya authored

a new version of the Satapatha Brahmana. Yaajnavalkya has also written a

treatise titled Yaajnavalkya Smrti, which is a veritable treasure- trove of

knowledge, and of immense value to mankind.

"So, it is evident that, without Surya's beneficial influence, it is impossible

to acquire a good education," concluded Nirvikalpananda.

"Master," Vimalananda said thoughtfully, "to be explicit, it was Goddess

Saraswati who imparted Vedic knowledge to Yaajnavalkya. Is it fair to give

Surya the credit for this?"

Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "Now, Vimalananda, let's take you as

our example. Let us assume that you are a six-year old boy. You want a

rupee. Your father is the custodian of the household finances. However, you

ask your mother for the money. She, in turn, tells your father to give you a

rupee – which he does. Now, tell me: who deserves the credit for this – your

mother or your father?"

"My mother, of course!" replied Vimalananda promptly. "It was only at her

instigation that my father gave me the rupee!"

"That's a logical reply, Vimalananda," the master said approvingly.

"Similarly, if not for Surya's grace and his benign influence, Goddess

Saraswati would not have given Yaajnavalkya her darshan and the Vedic

knowledge he deserved.

"We must keep in mind one significant fact: the gods and demigods will

strictly confine themselves to the discharge of their designated duties alone.

Surya, the king of the grahas , was well aware of the level of knowledge he

was entitled to grant. Yaajnavalkya desired advanced education in the

priceless Yajur Veda. Surya acknowledged that this was beyond his brief.

Saraswati, goddess of the word and education, the manifestation of letters,

was the one equipped to impart such knowledge.

"However, Surya voluntarily imparted such knowledge as fell within his

own ambit to a particular student who approached him …." The master

paused on a note of suspense.

"Who was that student, master?" Chidananda was agog with curiosity.

"Anjaneya," said Nirvikalpananda. "As a consequence of Surya's adverse

influence, Anjaneya had no one to instruct him. He was forced to beseech

Surya, whom he had earlier humiliated by attempting to swallow, to be his

preceptor."

"Master," said Shivananda enthusiastically, "please narrate this episode."

"Very well. Let me first tell you about Anjaneya's parents and his birth. We

shall then go on to his education. Do you all remember Punjikasthala?"

Nirvikalpananda asked.

"How could we forget, master?" Sadananda smiled wryly. "Your narrative

technique is so captivating that the details are etched permanently on our

memories! Punjikasthala was the nymph who served as a servant maid at

Brhaspati's ashram ."

"Excellent!" Nirvikalpananda smiled. "Brhaspati, infuriated by

Punjikasthala's shenanigans, cursed her to be born as a she-monkey.

Consequently, Punjikasthala was born to a heroic monkey, Kunjara, who

named her Anjana. Anjana grew to adulthood under Kunjara's tutelage.

Kunjara had a nephew, Kesari, who was valiant and phenomenally strong.

Approving of Kesari's fondness for Anjana, Kunjara gave her in marriage to

his nephew …"

Nirvikalpananda was back in the thick of his narrative.

Kesari reached the cave he shared with Anjana, his arms loaded with the

fruits he had collected in the forest. To his surprise, Anjana did not come to

meet him at the entrance, as was her wont. Calling out to her, Kesari peered

into the cave's unlit interior – Anjana was crouched in a dark corner.

Kesari looked at her in concern and asked, ‘Anjana, what is the matter? You

look listless and ill!"

Anjana heaved a sigh. "My physical health is good enough! I am sick at

heart!"

‘Anjana!" Kesari gasped in bewilderment.

"My friend, Haritaki, has become a mother … her infant son is so beautiful!

He has an adorable red face!"

"That makes you sad?"

"I am not sorry that Haritaki has a son – I am sorry for myself for not

having one!" Anjana said disconsolately.

"What can we do?" Kesari sighed in his turn. "Our married life has not been

fruitful."

"How can our marriage be truly fulfilled without progeny!" Anjana

lamented.

"Come out of the darkness, Anjana," Kesari said tenderly, "Let's talk

outside."

Kesari held out his hand to his wife. Anjana pulled herself up. Kesari put

his arm around her slender waist, led her into the sunshine and seated her on

a boulder. Sitting beside her, he gently caressed her head and listened

patiently as Anjana waxed eloquent on Haritaki's motherhood and her

newborn son's beauty.

"Let's meet our monkey physician," Kesari said consolingly. "I'll ask him to

give you some medicines which will facilitate your pregnancy."

"There is no need for a physician!"

‘Anjana!" Kesari exclaimed at her vehemence.

"We need someone who is more powerful than a mere physician," Anjana

said emphatically. "We will seek Sage Maatanga's darshan tomorrow

morning."

A divine tranquility embraced Sage Maatanga's ashram. The heady

fragrance of multi-hued blossoms pervaded the air. Anjana and Kesari made

their quiet entrance and saw Sage Maatanga seated on a dais in the shade of

a tree. A luminescent halo shone round his head and his eyes were closed in

deep meditation. Anjana, moved to devotion, extended her arm to pick a

flower to lay at his feet.

‘Anjana!" the sage's voice suddenly lashed out in warning. "Do not pluck

the flower!"

Anjana jumped back in startled alarm and looked at the sage: his eyes

remained shut! Maatanga could see them even through his closed eyes!

Holding his wife's hand, Kesari guided her towards the dais, where they

came to a respectful halt before the sage.

Sage Maatanga opened his eyes and greeted the couple with a welcoming

smile. "You are here after a long interval! Come …" Sage Maatanga

beckoned them near.

Anjana and Kesari prostrated themselves before him and touched his feet in

worship.

"May happiness be yours," Sage Maatanga said. ‘Anjana, do you know why

I warned you not to pluck the flowers?"

Anjana shook her head in bewilderment.

"In this ashram , the flowers remain eternally fresh, as if they have just

bloomed – they will never wither! Once, my disciples returned with vast

quantities of fruits for me. Due to their heavy burden, they were drenched in

sweat. At the moment of their entry into the ashram, the drops of

perspiration from their bodies fell on the flowering plants – the plants were

instantly transformed into beautiful, fragrant blossoms! In my eyes, these

are not mere flowers: they are living symbols of guru bhakti – devotion

towards the guru ."

"Your disciples are indeed fortunate!" Kesari remarked.

"I am also fortunate, Kesari – it is a master's good fortune to have sincere

disciples." The sage turned to Anjana. "I haven't set eyes on you for a long

time, Anjana," he said. "How is your father, Kunjara?"

"Father is well … but …" Anjana faltered and lowered her eyes to the

ground.

"But …?" the sage frowned. "Come on, Anjana – out with it! I am very

fond of Kunjara."

"Father is sad as I continue to remain childless."

"The father mirrors his daughter's sorrow!"

"Well said, master!" Kesari exclaimed. "How can we be happy without

children? Our life has become meaningless."

"Swami …" Anjana addressed the sage.

"Yes, Anjana – what is it?" Sage Maatanga gazed into her tear-filled eyes.

Anjana bent her head and the tears overflowed to drop on the sage's feet.

Sage Maatanga placed his palm in blessing on her bowed head. ‘Anjana!"

Anjana looked up into his eyes. "Bhagavan, bless me with a son who will

surpass his father, Kesari, and his grandfather, Kunjara, in strength and

valour!"

Sage Maatanga smiled wryly. "I do not possess such power. However, I

shall bless your effort to beget such a son. You were in my thoughts earlier

this morning. I wished to bless you and to give you my advice regarding

your course of action in this matter."

"Bhagavan!” Anjana gasped in wonder.

"Yes, Anjana," the sage said, "I can foresee your future in my mind's eye.

Propitiate Vayudeva who is also known as the Maha Praana and Mukhya

Praana – the Great Life Force. In his mercy, he will grant you the son you

desire."

"Oh … Bhagavan …” Anjana was speechless with joy.

"Tomorrow is a very auspicious day," the sage continued. "Go to the

summit of this mountain and commence your penance." He turned to

Kesari. "Kesari, it is your duty to see that Anjana's penance is not

disrupted."

"I will guard Anjana and her tapas,” Kesari declared staunchly.

Anjana and Kesari folded their hands, touched Sage Maatanga's feet in

respect and took their leave.

The next morning, Anjana and Kesari reached the summit of the mountain

and Kesari cleared a spot under the spreading branches of a tree. Anjana

bathed in a nearby pond and touched her husband's feet in reverence. She

swore a solemn oath to beget a son endowed with extraordinary strength,

vast intelligence, nobility and valour, and commenced her penance to

propitiate Vayudeva, the god of wind.

Kesari faithfully collected fruits, and washed and cleaned them in readiness

for Anjana to eat. However, steadfast in her penance, Anjana did not open

her eyes for food or water – the fruits remained untouched. Anjana rose

above the physical senses, and oblivious to hunger and thirst, lost all

consciousness of self. Kesari, transfixed by the sight of Anjana's ardent

penance, gazed in astonishment at her resolute concentration and devotion.

He mused: a mother's agonized yearning for a child cannot be fully

comprehended by a father!

As Anjana's penance continued uninterruptedly, there was a sudden change

in the atmosphere. The soft zephyr which had wafted over them, gradually

turned into a strong wind. Within moments, it picked up further momentum

and became a furious gale. Trees bent under the force of the violent

whirlwind, which shrieked through the mountain caves and lashed at the

shrubs. The massive tree under which Anjana sat, lost in penance, creaked

and bent menacingly, its branches lashing out in frenzy. The alarmed Kesari

prayed it would not be uprooted in the gale.

Anjana, immersed in a transcendental state beyond time, space and reason,

remained oblivious to the raging pandemonium around her. Kesari stood

astounded by her concentration.

Gradually, the gale lost its force and subsided into a gentle breeze once

more. The furious shriek of the tempest which shook the trees, animals and

the very mountain itself, receded into the depths of the forest. Kesari, who

had taken shelter in a cave, emerged into the calm and looked at Anjana –

his wife remained lost in in serene contemplation.

"Salutations to the primeval couple!" Vayudeva, the god of wind, prostrated

himself before Lord Shiva and Parvati on Mount Kailash.

"May happiness be yours," Lord Shiva blessed him. "How are you, Vayu?"

"How can I be anything but in the best of health and spirits when I bear

Lord Shiva's awesome tejas in my stomach?!" Vayu smiled in reply.

"Lord Shiva's awesome tejas?… in your stomach? What do you mean,

Vayu?" Goddess Parvati asked in bewilderment.

"Yes, mother," Vayu said, "have you forgotten the time when you and your

divine spouse frolicked together in the assumed form of monkeys?"

"Oh … that monkey business!" Lord Shiva smiled at Parvati with a twinkle

in his eyes.

‘At that time," Vayu continued, "Lord Shiva entrusted me with his semen,

commanding me to keep it safely in my stomach. Since that day, I have

faithfully carried your charge on my head – and the luster of your tejas in

my stomach!"

"Very well, Vayu," Lord Shiva asked, “but why are you bringing this up

now?"

"Bhagavan,” Vayu explained, ‘Anjana, daughter of the warrior-monkey,

Kunjara, and wife of Kesari, another warrior-monkey, is immersed in tapas

, propitiating me for the gift of a son. I am pleased by her penance. I am

here to request your permission to bestow the great Rudra Veerya on the

virtuous Anjana."

"Certainly, Vayu," Lord Shiva agreed promptly. ‘Anjana was an apsara in

her previous birth. She was reborn as a monkey due to Brhaspati's curse.

Anjana is undoubtedly worthy of begetting a son with my tejas.”

‘Anjana, who shows such fortitude in her tapas, will definitely nurture the

child and rear him to reach his full potential," Goddess Parvati added.

"Go, Vayu," Lord Shiva commanded, "bestow the fruit of my tejas on

Anjana." He continued, ‘Anjana's son will achieve great fame and will be

renowned as your son too!"

"I am blessed, indeed!" Vayu said humbly, with folded hands.

Kesari sighed at the heap of untouched fruits. Anjana remained engrossed

in her unrelenting tapas . He had no idea when her penance would end – but

he would steadfastly continue to guard her and bring her delicious fruits and

honey, in the hope that she would break her fast. Praying to Vayu, the god

of wind, to grant his wife's wish soon, Kesari went to forage in the forest.

The wind blowing on the summit abruptly took on the fierce aspect of a

tempest and whirled around Anjana, who remained like a stone statue,

oblivious to its force. Gradually, the whirlwind subsided into a gentle

breeze.

‘Anjana!" the voice roared like a lion in its den. Anjana shuddered in

response to the thunderous summons, which reverberated in her ears. Her

eyes slowly fluttered open to see a gargantuan form hovering before her. Its

contours were vague, as if shrouded by a thin veil of gauze. The body

gleamed a dull gold behind the shimmering curtain. The apparition held a

huge, golden mace on his left shoulder. Anjana stared at him in awe.

"Anjana," the voice resonated in all directions from that divine, colossal

form, "I am Vayudeva, the god of wind."

"My lord … you heard my prayer!" Anjana exclaimed in delight and

offered her humble salutation to the wind god.

"I am pleased with your flawless penance. You yearn to become a mother. I

will now bestow the all-powerful tejas on you. Its mighty luster will engulf

your body and enter your sacred womb, to grow within its protective walls.

In due course, it will be born as the son you long to cradle tenderly in your

lap." As he spoke, Vayudeva raised his palm over her in benediction.

Rays of shimmering gray radiated from his palm and swamped Anjana's

entire form. In an instant, the divine emanation vanished, having been

absorbed into Anjana's body.

‘Anjana," Vayudeva smiled magnanimously, "you will bear a son with the

amsa of Lord Paramashiva. He will be endowed with extraordinary strength

and intelligence and shine as a mighty warrior and exemplary scholar.

Through him, your name will be immortal. He will achieve renown as

Vayuputra, Vatatmaja and Maruti. He will be the shining example which

proves that the vanara (monkey) is greater than the nara (human)."

"Bhagavan,” Anjana said with tears in her eyes, "I am blessed – my life has

become truly meaningful." She folded her hands in reverence.

In the next instant, Vayudeva disappeared with the roaring sound of wind

whooshing into a cave. Anjana, emerging from her transformational

encounter, looked round eagerly for her husband.

‘Anjana!" she heard him call, as he returned from the forest with his

collection of fruits.

Anjana flew to him with the glad tidings.

The seasons came and went. The goddess of time changed her attire to suit

each season, laying on a continuous feast for the eyes. Buds blossomed into

flowers, flowers into unripe fruits and then into succulent, mature fruits.

Anjana's womb swelled with her pregnancy, like the waxing moon. She

shone like a lotus bud, as a strange, new, radiant beauty suffused her entire

being. Her divine loveliness was a delight to every heart and eye. It was a

transcendental beauty, which went deeper than the merely physical. Kesari

lavished his affectionate care on his glowing wife.

On the tenth day of the dark half of the month of Vaisakh , at an auspicious

time, Anjana delivered a baby boy. The infant was golden complexioned,

with a red face. A yellow robe was wrapped round his tiny waist. Golden

ornaments, studded with precious gems, adorned his little body: sparkling

necklaces and earrings, and bracelets clinking on his arms. The sacred

thread of the yajnopaveetam was tied across his shoulders. Anjana and

Kesari were astonished to see the newborn baby thus richly attired and

adorned.

Suddenly, a gentle zephyr, laden with sweet fragrance, crept into the inner

reaches of the cave. In its wake came Vayudeva – the god of wind. Anjana

and Kesari offered their salutations to him.

"Bhagavan Vayu," Anjana greeted him with tears of joy, "your boon has

fructified. I am the blessed mother of a baby boy!"

"I am also blessed, Anjana!" Kesari added with a broad grin.

"Yes," Vayudeva smiled at them. "Yours is an exemplary marriage!" He

tenderly gathered the infant into his arms. "Lord Shiva's holy force has

taken birth as your son. This child will be the manifestation of phenomenal

strength. He will be renowned as Anjaneya, Anjanakumar and

Kesarinandan. As Vayuputra, Maruti and Paavani, he will immortalize my

name. All three of us are very fortunate!"

"Bhagavan,” Anjana implored, “be my son's protector."

"Certainly, Anjana: it will be my pleasure. No harm will befall your son as

long as I, Mahaprana, am present!" Vayu placed a tender kiss on the baby's

forehead and said, "Name him Anjaneya." He passed the infant to Kesari,

who gathered him into his warm embrace. Blessing the parents and child,

the god of wind vanished into the blue sky.

As a flower dispenses its inherent fragrance as it blossoms, the infant

Anjaneya demonstrated his prodigious strength as he grew. His antics were

a source of continuous delight and pride to his parents. Time passed.

One day, Anjana and Kesari emerged from the cave in search of Anjaneya.

Suddenly, flowers and unripe fruit rained down on them from the thick

foliage of a nearby tree. They peered up to see the young Anjaneya perched

on a branch, biting into the raw fruit, before throwing them uneaten to the

ground.

"Anjaneya, my boy! Climb down from the trees, son! Come to me!" Anjana

walked towards the tree, as her little boy jumped down, throwing away the

last of the gnawed fruits.

Anjana lifted the child into her arms and hugged him. "Now, now, my son

… is it right to pluck the fruit and throw them away like that?!" she

exclaimed in gentle reprimand.

"They do not taste good, mother," Anjaneya replied with a grimace.

"That is because they are raw, my son. You should pluck only ripe fruits,

which are red in colour: they will be tasty."

"Oh … ripe fruits are red, is it, mother?" Anjaneya asked curiously.

"Yes, my son," Anjana emphasized. "Unripe fruits are green and ripe fruits

are red. You should be careful not to waste the fruit buds and the green

fruits."

"Yes, mother," Anjaneya said obediently, before slipping from her arms to

run towards his father, Kesari, who carried a pile of red fruit in his arms.

Anjaneya stood at mouth of the cave, looking after his mother's receding

back. Anjana was off to the forest to forage for food. It was dawn. The

eastern horizon blazed with light as the rising sun spread its first rays over

the earth. Anjaneya gazed in fascination at the blazing play of colours in the

sky. The red orb of the sun slowly glided above the horizon. Suddenly, a

frown marred Anjaneya's brow – the rising sun was just like the round, red

fruits his parents gave him.

"You should pluck only ripe fruits, which are red in colour: they will be

tasty." Anjaneya recalled his mother's words. He stared at the eastern

horizon. The ripe red fruit slowly climbed higher into the sky – his mouth

watered at the succulent sight!

Anjaneya peered into the cave: to his relief, his father, Kesari, was nowhere

to be seen. He turned back to the east. Holding his breath, he leaped into the

sky, held his tail erect and flew unerringly like an arrow towards the 'red

fruit' hanging temptingly before him. A cool wind caressed his face as he

accelerated and sped towards the east. He looked down at the thick forests

and mighty mountains which clothed the earth and rushed backwards as he

continued on his passage across the vast expanse of the sky.

Anjana, busy collecting fruits for her beloved little boy, looked up

instinctively to see him whizzing across the sky. She turned and ran in panic

to their cave. Kesari stood at the cave entrance, staring open-mouthed at the

sight of his son flying past in the sky. Anjana came to stand close beside

him, cold dread gripping her heart.

Anjaneya continued to accelerate, gradually reducing the distance between

him and the 'red fruit.'

Indra, enjoying the spectacular sunrise from the Nandana garden, gave a

gasp of astonishment on seeing a little monkey flashing towards the sun's

orb. Assuming that some evil force, in the guise of a monkey, was bent on

swallowing Surya, the alarmed Indra immediately set out for the mountain

of the sunrise on his royal elephant, Airavata. The divine architect,

Viswakarma, and the guardians of the eight directions, followed the king of

the devas.

Even as Indra and his agitated entourage hurried on, Anjaneya reached

dangerously close to Surya.

"You monkey child! Stop right there!" Indra roared his warning. "Turn

around and go back from where you came."

The young Anjaneya snarled at Indra before turning away indifferently.

Indra was enraged at the little monkey's insolent defiance. In a trice, Indra

hurled his weapon, the vajrayudha, towards the monkey, who was on the

verge of swallowing Surya. The vajra hit Anjaneya on his jaw. At its

tremendous impact, Anjaneya hurtled to the earth, where he fell

unconscious on the ground.

Vayudeva, the god of wind, erupted in fury at Indra's callous failure to

acknowledge and respect Vayu's relationship with the young Anjaneya.

How dare Indra attack his son with the vajrayudha?

Assuming his gross form, the wind god tenderly picked up the unconscious

Anjaneya in his arms and rushed to Kesari's cave. On entering the cave,

Vayudeva deliberately withdrew his action on the three worlds – at once,

the wind died down completely. Consequently, the animate world drew to a

standstill and became inanimate. Indra, the guardians of the directions and

all the other devas stood as still as statues. Unable to glide on the wind

currents, birds lost the power of flight and hovered immobilized in the air.

All the worlds were poised on the edge of extinction, as beings gasped for

breath and struggled to overcome death through suffocation.

Brahma, aware of imminent catastrophe, rushed to Kesari's cave.

"Vayu," Brahma asked, "where is your beloved son?" He gathered the boy

into his arms and delicately caressed him with his right hand. Under the

divine touch of the Creator, the unconscious Anjaneya emerged from his

coma.

"Vayu," Brahma urged the wind god, "release your life-giving breezes and

let the worlds live. I assure you that your son is safe and will remain safe

forever!"

Bowing to Brahma's wish, Vayudeva released his force and reanimated the

three worlds. Every being regained its movement and inhaled the life-

giving air in grateful relief.

Brahma summoned Indra, the astadikpalakas and Viswakarma to the cave.

At the same time, Lord Shiva also appeared there on his own volition.

Indra looked ruefully at the deep scar inflicted on the boy's jar by his

vajrayudha and said, "My vajrayudha has left a cleft on the boy's jaw, or

Hanu. I therefore declare that, henceforth, he will be known as Hanuman. I

grant Hanuman this boon: he will never again be vulnerable to my vajra.”

Brahma came forward to lay his palm on the boy's head. "My divine missile

– the Brahmastra, will have no impact on Hanuman. I grant him the boon

of longevity. He will be a Chiranjeevi: an immortal."

It was Lord Shiva's turn. "I ordain that Anjaneya will never be wounded by

my Trident or the Rudra-astra and Pasupatha-astra missiles."

Varuna, the god of the waters, decreed that Hanuman would remain immune

to his power.

Agni, the god of fire, granted Hanuman protection from fire.

Kubera, the god of wealth, gifted Hanuman with his mace.

The other devas followed suit and showered boons on the young Hanuman.

The child, Anjaneya, empowered by the munificent gifts of the gods, grew

up in Anjana's care. Kesari taught him the science of wrestling: in an

incredibly short span of time, Anjaneya became a past-master in combat.

When Anjaneya expressed his desire to study the scriptures, Anjana

immediately thought of Brhaspati, the preceptor of the gods.

"My son," Anjana said, "Brhaspati, the deva-guru, is a powerhouse of

knowledge. There is no scripture which he does not know, or which he

cannot teach – furthermore, he believes in imparting free education to all.

Go to his ashram and request him to accept you as his disciple."

After obtaining his parents' permission and blessings, Anjaneya set out for

Brhaspati's hermitage.

Brhaspati looked up from his explication of a Vedic sukta and gazed intently

at the young monkey who approached him.

Anjaneya stood at a respectable distance, folded his hands in salutation and

said, "Gurudev, my pranam. I am Anjaneya, the son of Anjana and Kesari.

My mother, Anjana, advised me to approach your eminence for my

education. Please accept me as your pupil and impart to me the knowledge

of the scriptures."

Brhaspati, his eyes half-closed, remained in thoughtful silence. Anjana …

Anjaneya … Punjikasthala … Anjaneya! Yes! Anjana had been

Punjikasthala in her previous birth! As the realization dawned, Brhaspati

looked at Anjaneya with new eyes and smiled fondly at him.

"Anjanakumar, I appreciate your thirst for knowledge of the scriptures but

… I cannot instruct you."

"Gurudev!" Anjaneya exclaimed in rude shock. "May I know the reason for

this?"

"I cannot instruct you because I cannot accept you as my disciple,"

Brhaspati stated.

"Why, gurudev?" Anjaneya asked, "I beg you to tell me."

"I cannot impart knowledge to monkeys," Brhaspati admitted ruefully.

"Gurudev …" Anjaneya faltered.

"Let me explain, Anjaneya," Brhaspati said. "Regardless of a person's

greatness, he is bound by certain limitations and conditions. This applies to

me also. I did not accept my own son, Taara, as my disciple. I did not give

him an education!"

Disappointment oozed from Anjaneya's eyes. Brhaspati looked back

compassionately at the young monkey with impeccable manners and innate

courtesy.

"However," the deva-guru continued, "just as there are individuals whose

actions are constrained by certain limitations, there are other individuals

who are free from all such restrictions."

"Gurudev,” Anjaneya asked eagerly, "Who are they?" The beginnings of

hope stirred in his eyes.

"Look up into the sky above!"

Anjaneya obeyed Brhaspati.

"Who do you see spreading his light on the three worlds, Anjaneya?" the

deva-guru asked with a smile.

"The sun, the god of light."

"Go to him," Brhaspati advised, "Seek refuge at his feet."

"Gurudev, are you suggesting that I approach the sun in the sky?" Anjaneya

asked in bewilderment.

"Yes, my boy," Brhaspati reiterated. "The god of light will bless you with

the light of knowledge."

Anjaneya folded his hands and bowed in reverence.

"May you achieve your objective," Brhaspati blessed him.

‘After all, he is the mentor of the gods," Kesari sympathized with his son.

"Perhaps that is why he looks down on the monkey race."

"No, father," Anjaneya remained fair. "We must not misjudge that great

guru – his own son, Taara, is a monkey like us. Brhaspati declined to

educate him too: the guru himself revealed this to me."

"Hanuman, follow Brhaspati's advice," Anjana was resolute. "Go and

propitiate Suryadeva."

Doubt clouded Anjaneya's eyes. "Mother, as a little boy, I tried to swallow

him – I humiliated him!" He heaved a rueful sigh. "He may be angry with

me, mother!"

Anjana smiled at her son. "Bhagavan Surya is the king of the grahas. He is

worshipped as the kinsman of all the world. His anger will be fleeting!"

"What if we change his anger into compassion?" Kesari suggested.

"That is an excellent idea," Anjana agreed. She turned to her son. "First,

pray to Surya, asking his forgiveness. Then, pray for his munificence. The

deva-guru would not guide you to Bhagavan Surya without a valid reason."

"Do you think Suryadeva will forgive me, mother?" Anjaneya asked

wistfully.

"Of course, my son!" Anjana was emphatic. "He will certainly forgive you

– for all we know, he may have quite enjoyed your childish prank!"

Anjaneya touched his parents' feet in respect. "Bless me … I am on my

way!"

Surya smiled at the young monkey standing before him.

"Bhagavan, the son of Anjana and Kesari salutes you," Anjaneya said with

respectfully folded hands.

"Hanuman?"

Anjaneya flushed in embarrassment. "Bhagavan, in my childish ignorance,

I mistook you for a ripe fruit and attempted to swallow you. Please forgive

my foolish impetuosity."

Surya looked at the youth kneeling before him in abject repentance and

smiled in amusement. "I forgave you then itself, Hanuman. It was but a

childish prank, wasn't it?"

"Bhagavan!” Anjaneya exclaimed in relief. His face glowed with

happiness. "Then, show me your mercy – please bestow on me the

knowledge of the scriptures. Be my mentor!"

"Hanuman, get up, my boy!" Anjaneya came to his feet and stood with his

head bowed in obedience. "Your birth has been predestined for great things.

Your strength, which enabled you to approach me in spite of my intense

heat, is incredible. Although you are born into the monkey race, you crave

knowledge of the scriptures: this is extraordinary and highly commendable!

I accept you as my student and disciple."

"Bhagavan , I am fortunate indeed!"

"Hanuman, I will teach you the eighteen disciplines, or Astaadasa Vidyas –

this comprises of the four Vedas viz. Rigveda, Yajurveda, Saamaveda and

Atharvaveda; the six Angas: Siksha, Vyaakarana, Chandas, Nirukta,

Jyotisha and Kalpa; the scriptures called Meemamsa, Nyaaya Sabda,

Dharma, Artha ayurveda, Dhanurveda and the Puranas.

"Mastery of even one of these eighteen disciplines qualifies one to be

considered an eminent scholar. I will pay special attention to Vyaakarana,

grammar being the life-blood of a language. I will make you a past master

in all the nine grammars – you will become a Nava Vyaakarana Pandit ."

"Bhagavan, I am truly blessed!"

"I will also make you adept in the discipline of pronunciation, or Siksha . I

will teach you the flawless pronunciation of words and sentences," Surya

continued.

Anjaneya folded his hands in speechless delight.

"However, there is one obstacle."

Anjaneya looked at Surya questioningly.

"I must be constantly on the move to dispense light and heat to the three

worlds. This means that I cannot sit in one place and impart knowledge to

you."

Anjaneya staunchly declared, "I will fly in your wake, as you travel across

the sky, and receive your instruction."

Surya's eyes widened in surprise. Slowly, an admiring smile spread across

his face. "If you do accomplish this feat, Hanuman, you will indeed prove

yourself worthy to be my disciple!"

"Everything depends on your mercy, Bhagavan!”

"You have pleased me with your exemplary obedience and devotion. I will

bestow on you all the disciplines of learning. From this moment, you are

my student. Follow me and we will embark on our voyage of learning. I

shall commence your education with the recitation of the primeval letter –

the Pranava, which is the reflection of the Supreme God and the Naada

Brahma,” Surya said. In a solemn voice, which echoed through the vast

reaches of space, the Sun god recited, "Om!”

Anjaneya, inspired by his new mentor, repeated the awesome Omkar after

him.

From dawn to dusk, Surya uninterruptedly imparted education to this most

talented of students – one with unparalleled powers of comprehension.

Surya was impressed by Anjaneya's unswerving perseverance, as he kept

pace with his master's rapid transit across the skies, not stopping for even a

brief moment of respite, and grasping every lesson at one telling. At the

same time, Anjaneya's sterling obedience and devotion touched Surya's

heart.

Moving closely in Surya's wake, like his shadow, Anjaneya completed his

period of instruction in an incredibly short span of time. Vedas, Vedaangas,

scriptures and Puranas – all the eighteen disciplines of education were soon

stored in Anjaneya's prodigious brain.As a result of the special emphasis

Surya placed on grammar, Anjaneya mastered all the nine significant

grammars: a phenomenal feat of scholarship!

Bidding farewell to his dearest disciple, who had mastered all the

disciplines, exceeding his wildest expectations, Bhagavan Surya said, "Your

education is complete, Hanuman. While imparting knowledge to you, I

have simultaneously tested your grasp on my earlier lessons. You have

passed that test too with flying colours! The study of the Saamaveda having

aroused your latent musical talent, you will become an expert in singing,

composing tunes and creating new ragas. The mode of pronunciation you

have mastered will become renowned throughout the three worlds."

Surya held out his hand in fond benediction. "You may leave, Hanuman –

my blessings will always be with you, my boy!"

Hanuman gazed at his divine preceptor with brimming eyes and said,

"Bhagavan, I am indebted to you. I would like to offer you a fee as a token

of my gratitude to my master. Grant me this honour and name your guru

dakshina ."

Surya smiled enigmatically at him. "In time to come, you will perform a

great service which will comprise my guru dakshina. That offering will be

precious to me, your guru . You will realize this when you undertake that

task. Fare thee well, my boy!"

Anjaneya folded his hands in deep reverence to the preceptor who had

lavished on him a wealth of knowledge and affection.

"And thus, Anjaneya successfully concluded his course of education,"

Nirvikalpananda reached the end of this segment of his narrative.

"Master," Shivananda asked curiously, "what was the service Anjaneya

rendered later, in order to fulfill his guru dakshina to his mentor?"

"During the period of Sri Rama's incarnation, Anjaneya rendered invaluable

service to Sri Rama."

"But Master," Shivananda frowned in puzzlement, "how does Anjaneya's

service to Sri Rama translate into Surya Bhagavan’s guru dakshina ?"

Nirvikalpananda laughed. "Sadananda, tell me: to which lineage did Sri

Rama belong?"

"The solar lineage, master," Sadananda replied promptly.

"Surya was aware that the object of Anjaneya's incarnation was to serve the

Rama avatar of Lord Vishnu as a true Arrow of Rama.' The Sun god hinted

that Anjaneya would be offering him his guru dakshina by serving Sri

Rama, who would be born in his lineage."

"That was so interesting, master," Vimalananda sighed. ‘Are there more

incidents which demonstrate Surya's glory?"

"There are, my boy, there are! Both Sri Rama, during the Tretayuga, and

Dharmaraja, the eldest of the Pandavas, during the Dvaaparayuga , were

recipients of Surya's magnanimity.

"In the Lankan war, Sri Rama was unable to slay Ravana with his powerful

arrows. Undeterred, Ravana persevered in his aggressive offensive against

Sri Rama, showering him with missiles in his turn. Disturbed by this

avalanche of weapons, the grahas moved from their ordained orbits. Sri

Rama was in a grave dilemma. At that juncture, Sage Agastya visited the

battlefield and explained that Surya's unfavourable influence was the cause

of Rama's predicament.

"Ramachandra, it is the planets' malignant impact which impedes your

victory. I will initiate you into the powerful Aditya Hrdaya. Chant the stotra

with single-minded concentration. Aditya Surya Bhagavan, the fore-genitor

of your solar dynasty – he who grants longevity and victory, will turn his

magnanimous face towards you. Once that happens, slaying the demon,

Ravana, will be easily accomplished!" Agastya advised.

"Sri Rama consented and received the sacred Aditya Hrdaya hymn from

Sage Agastya. Having performed the ordained preliminary rites, he

fervently recited the stotra, as directed by the sage. His single-minded

devotion touched Surya's heart and the king of the grahas lavished his

benignant rays on Sri Rama. With renewed valour, Sri Rama took up his

bow and, in a short time, killed the demon, Ravana."

Nirvikalpananda paused and looked at his disciples.

"Master," enthused Chidananda, "your story linking Sri Rama's destiny in

the Tretayuga with Surya's glory, is fascinating. Please tell us how

Dharmaraja benefited from Surya's favourable influence."

"I am coming to it, Chidananda," Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "This

episode demonstrates how Dharmaraja gained Surya's mercy. Having lost

everything in the notorious game of dice, Dharmaraja, accompanied by his

four brothers and his wife, Draupadi, commenced his exile in the forest.

They were followed by a group of Brahmin scholars who were devoted to

the Pandavas.

"One day, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva went deep into the forest to

forage for fruits and edible roots to satisfy their hunger …"

With that, Nirvikalpananda resumed his narrative.

Dharmaraja approached his guru, Dhoumya, who was relaxing in the shade

of a tree.

The sage looked up and said, "Dharmaraja, why this sorrowful

countenance? Is something wrong?"

Dharmaraja heaved a deep sigh and sat beside the sage. "Gurudev, it pains

me to observe the sorry plight of the learned Brahmins, including you, who

have followed us to the forest. You are entitled to reverence as gods on

earth … yet here you are, enduring the pangs of hunger and thirst. I am

unable to provide you with proper food – I am reduced to offering you roots

and leaves instead! What shall I do? I beg your advice."

Dhoumya stared thoughtfully at the eldest Pandava for a while. The sage

closed his eyes … his right thumb tapped his fingers in brisk calculation.

His computation done, the sage looked up and locked eyes with the prince:

"Dharamraja, it was Sani's malign influence which pushed you into playing

dice and wagering all your worldly possessions, including your brothers and

your wife. Consequently, you are now living in the forest. Here, the scarcity

of food stares you in the face. The reason for your present hardship is

Surya, the king of the planets … Surya does not look on you favourably."

"Gurudev!” Dharmaraja exclaimed in anguish at this news. Then, a smile

dawned slowly on his face. "In that case, if I were to bring about the

favourable influence of the planets, I would not have to live here like a

destitute."

"Yes, Dharmaraja," Dhoumya nodded approvingly. ‘A man is duty-bound to

attempt to rectify the adverse impact of the Navagrahas . You must earn

Bhagavan Surya's mercy. He has not been anointed the Graharaju – king of

the grahas, merely for the sake of form. He is considered to be kin to all

living beings. Bhagavan Surya, who bestowed knowledge on Sage

Yaajnavalkya and Anjaneya, is not only the dispenser of learning – he is

also Annadaata : the Dispenser of Sustenance.

"Not just gods, demons and men – but also birds and animals … in short, all

living beings, including trees and plants, depend on Surya Bhagavan for

their food. He is also instrumental in providing the water essential for life. It

is he who makes the water evaporate and fall on the worlds as life-giving

rain. He who is fortunate enough to enjoy Bhagavan Surya's magnanimity

will never want for food." Dhoumya urged Dharmaraja: "You must worship

Surya immediately. Surya's merciful intervention is the only way out of

your predicament."

‘As you command, gurudev,” Dharmaraja bowed in agreement. "But, what

is the method involved?"

"I will teach you the prescribed rite of homage to Bhagavan Surya," the

sage replied. "Bhagavan Surya is to be worshipped by reciting his one

hundred and eight sacred names. Each of these names equals one mantra .

Indra taught these 108 names to Sage Narada, who in turn passed them on

to Emperor Vasu. I received the sacred names from the emperor."

"So, Bhagavan Surya's sacred names comprise the wealth of generations,"

Dharmaraja said admiringly.

"Yes, Dharmaraja," Dhoumya smiled. "And now, you are to inherit that

priceless spiritual heritage. The recitation of the names requires mastery

over two skills: one is comprehending the meaning of each name and the

other is the correct pronunciation of the 108 names. I will now teach you

the meanings and the accurate pronunciation of every letter of each name.

Once I have completed my instruction, take a dip in the holy waters of the

Ganga. Standing in the waters, face the east and pay homage to Bhagavan

Surya by reciting his sacred names. The early hours of the coming day are

particularly auspicious for this worship. At dawn, secure the darshan of the

rising orb of the sun and commence your prayer."

Dharmaraja nodded in eager agreement and folded his hands in respect to

Sage Dhoumya.

The flush of dawn was faintly visible in the eastern sky. Dharmaraja, having

been inducted into the mysteries of Surya's 108 names, asked his guru’s

permission to commence his worship.

"May Surya Bhagavan shower his mercy on you," Dhoumya blessed

Dharmaraja. "May victory be yours!"

As the sun rose above the eastern horizon, Dharmaraja, standing waist-deep

in the holy waters of the Ganga, commenced his recital of Surya

Bhagavan’s names.

Armed with his knowledge of the true meanings of Surya's names, and with

flawless pronunciation, Dharmaraja performed his Surya aradhana:

worshipping Surya with his offering of the Graharajus sacred names. He

kept his eyes fixed on the sun's red orb which appeared as a vermillion tilak

on the beautiful forehead of the east. In single-minded concentration,

Dharmaraja stared unblinkingly at the sun, opening his inner self to the all-

pervading essence of Bhagavan Surya. In a while, his eyelids dropped over

his eyes on their own accord.

With his inner eyes, Dharmaraja now perceived Surya's form ensconced in

his heart. He continued to direct his rays of mediation towards the god of a

thousand rays. He was oblivious to the passage of time. Minutes and hours,

day and night – every distinction was blurred.

"Dharmaraja!"

The pleasant sound of his name reached Dharmaraja's ears and gently

nudged him out of his deep meditation. His eyelids fluttered open … his

eyes widened in surprise at the enthralling panorama which emerged before

him.

Against the azure background of the cloudless sky, hovered a

single¬wheeled equipage drawn by seven horses. With Aruna on the

vehicle's yoke, Bhagavan Surya sat majestically in the golden chariot.

Dharmaraja folded his hands and raised them in exultant homage above his

head. "Oh Bhagavan! Dispenser of all sustenance … a thousand salutations

to you!"

"Dharmaraja," the Sun god replied, "your homage has pleased me with its

single-minded devotion. Henceforth, my munificent face will be turned on

you. I bestow on you the divine akshaya-paatra, an inexhaustible vessel –

any food prepared by your wife with roots and fruits will be transformed

into the four varieties of food: bhaksya , bhojya , lehya and choshya, to

satisfactorily appease your hunger."

"I am blessed indeed, Bhagavan !

"Come, receive the inexhaustible vessel," Surya's voice resonated across the

sky.

Dharmaraja bent forward in reverence and obediently held out his hands. In

an instant, a gleaming copper vessel materialized in his open palms.

"Bhagavan, how blessed I am!" Dharmaraja's eyes brimmed with tears of

joy.

"Dharmaraja, my beneficence towards you has made you fortunate. This

divine, inexhaustible akshaya-paatra will sate your company's hunger till

the end of your exile. May good fortune continue to be yours!"

Surya disappeared and Dharmaraja gradually emerged from his trance.

Sending up a prayer of silent gratitude to Surya, he set out for his camp in

the forest, where Dhoumya and his entourage of Brahmins felicitated

Dharmaraja for securing the divine akshaya-paatra.

From that day, the food cooked by Draupadi metamorphosed into four

varieties of dishes, satisfying the taste buds and stomachs of the Pandavas

and their Brahmin followers.

"Dharmaraja, who successfully secured Bhagavan Surya's grace, is a role

model for all of us who wish to worship Surya," Nirvikalpananda said.

"Master, it is good to know that Surya is the dispenser of both knowledge

and sustenance!" exclaimed Shivananda in satisfaction.

"Yes," agreed the master, "without Bhagavan Surya, there would be no food

or water for living beings. With that, we come to the end of our discourse

regarding Surya's glory. We will now proceed to hear of the glory of the

next graha – Chandra."

The Glory of Chandra

“Dadhi Sankha Tushaaraabham Kshirodaarnava sambhavam!

Namaami Sasinam Somam Sambhormakuta bhushanam!!"

I offer my salutations to Sasi who is known as Soma (Chandra) who

shines like curds, the conch and snow, who rose from the Ocean of

Milk, who is the ornament on Sambhu’s (Lord Shiva) crown.

"N ow we come to the glory of Chandra, who is the overlord

of medicinal plants, and exerts a powerful influence on the mind,

particularly on water. We see how the ocean responds to the touch of

Chandra's rays on a full moon night – its tides rising as if to reach out to

him in the sky. This eternal phenomenon categorically establishes Chandra's

influence on water."

Shivananda's eyes twinkled. "Master, I think several people in the Puranic

age were influenced by Chandra's good looks!"

Nirvikalpananda joined in the general laughter and then continued, "We

have discussed this matter several times. Let me reiterate: the 'present'

denotes the happenings of the current day, while 'history' refers to the

events of the recent past – however, the Puranas are historical records

which go back to the furthest reaches of time past. In order to enhance our

understanding of some concept, or analyze an exemplary deed, we draw

inferences from the historical or Puranic lives of people – this is an

established scholarly practice. The individual we consider need not

necessarily feature in epics such as the Ramayana, the Mahabharata or the

Bhagavata. He may be a character mentioned in some other literary work."

The disciples nodded in comprehension.

"We will now consider an individual who does not find mention in the

Puranas, but finds his place in more recent literature," Nirvikalpananda

said.

"In which work does he feature, master?" Sadananda asked.

"Have any of you heard of the Brhatkatha ?"

The four disciples exchanged puzzled glances and then shook their heads in

unison.

"The Brhatkatha is a veritable ocean of literature. It was written by an

ancient poet, Gunaadhya, in the Paisaachi language …"

"Paisaachi?!” Chidananda exclaimed. "Who can understand that

language?"

"Those who are familiar with the language can understand it!"

Nirvikalpananda smiled in wry amusement. "However, such people are

few! To redress this shortcoming, and make the Brhatkatha 's literary

wealth accessible to a larger body of readers, some poets have translated it

into Sanskrit. Kshemendra's translation is the Brhat Katha Manjari which is

not as exhaustive as the original. However, the poet Somadeva's version, the

Katha Sarit Saagaram, has treated it in its full length."

"We are familiar with that title, master!" Chidananda said excitedly.

"The Katha Sarit Saagaram contains an episode which demonstrates

Chandra's influence on events. Although the text does not explicitly state

that Chandra's influence was the reason for the hardships faced by a

particular individual, it is the logical conclusion which can be drawn from

the narration. It is an irrefutable fact that every living being falls under the

Navagrahas’ influence."

"Your explication is eminently logical, master," Vimalananda declared

staunchly.

"Any assertion, or explanation, which is not based on sound logic lacks

credibility," Nirvikalpananda cautioned. "Now, let us hear the story of King

Yogananda, who ruled his kingdom from his capital, Pataliputra. His son,

prince Hiranyagupta, was a passionate hunter. One day, the prince decided

to set out on a hunting expedition …"

As King Yogananda sat in consultation with his minister, Sakataala, and the

court astrologer, Hiranyagupta entered the chamber.

The king smiled fondly at his beloved son. The extremely handsome and

virile Hiranyagupta, his only son, took after his father in his regal

demeanour.

"What brings you here, Hiranya, my boy?" asked the king indulgently.

"I seek your permission, father."

"Permission for what, son?"

"I plan to go hunting in the forest, father."

"You have my permission and blessing," the king replied readily. "Take a

large contingent of hunters with you and …"

"Excuse me, my king, just a minute !" the court astrologer intervened.

"Yes, Acharya ?" the king asked, "What is the matter?"

"According to his horoscope, the alignment of the grahas is not favourable

to the prince."

"What does it matter if it is not favourable?" Hiranyagupta frowned and

shot back at the astrologer.

"It is not safe to go hunting ."

"Not safe for whom?" Hiranyagupta's lips curled in contempt. "For me or

the wild animals?"

King Yogananda laughed in appreciation of his son's wit, with Sakataala

immediately joining in his monarch's mirth. The king addressed the

astrologer. "Acharya, the prince is not leading a war party – surely we don't

need be so particular about planetary alignments!"

The astrologer held his ground. "I beg you to understand, my king – the

grahas’ influence …"

"Acharya !" shouted Hiranyagupta, "The planets, and their meaningless

impact, apply only to the weak and those who lack self-esteem!"

"But , my prince …" the astrologer remonstrated.

"I shall return safely from my hunting expedition and prove that your

irrational fear lacks all logic – it is a mere farce!" Hirayagupta turned

abruptly away from the astrologer and addressed his father: "Father …"

"Happy hunting, my boy!" the king smiled in blessing.

On Hiranyagupta's exit, the king smiled at the astrologer and said

conciliatorily: "Acharya, whenever you cast my son's horoscope, remember

to factor in his self-esteem!"

However, the astrologer did not share the king's levity. His face was grave

as he said, "Excuse me, my lord – it is the planets' malignant influence

which is responsible for the prince's obstinacy and overweening self-

esteem. I reiterate that this is not an auspicious time for the prince to go

hunting."

Prince Hiranyagupta led his hunting party deep into the dense forest.

Exhilarated by the cries of the wild animals, he spurred his horse on, eyes

darting hither and thither in eager search of lions and tigers. Lured on by the

distant roar of the animals, he plunged deeper and deeper into the forest,

gradually leaving behind his band of soldiers, who were unable to keep

pace with the prince's blistering speed. Hiranyagupta's reckless dash soon

found him lost in the wilderness, without any visible track to follow.

Strangely, in spite of the persistent calls which he heard, not a single animal

was in sight. Hiranyagupta's horse continued its breakneck gallop, defying

his efforts to rein it back.

The midday sun reached its zenith, scorching them with its fierce rays.

Gradually, the horse slowed to a canter and Hiranyagupta sensed that his

mount, like himself, was worn down by thirst and fatigue. He reined in the

horse and listened for sounds of his hunting party: they were not to be

heard.

The horse, unmindful of its rider's grip on the reins, walked purposefully

on. Hiranyagupta realized that the animal was instinctively moving towards

a source of water. Soon, the welcome call of aquatic birds greeted his ears

and a large lake loomed into view. Hiranyagupta dismounted and let his

horse make its weary way to the shore, where the thirsty animal eagerly

lapped at the cool water. The prince looked up at the sun's position, which

confirmed that he was lost and alone in the forest.

Suddenly, the sound of horse's hooves attracted his attention. He turned

quickly to see his mount galloping away from him. Hiranyagupta whistled

to summon his horse. However, the usually obedient animal ignored his call

and plunged headlong into the wilderness.

Hiranyagupta's eyes widened in horror and a spasm of fear convulsed his

body as he saw the reason for his horse's impetuous dash into the forest: a

lion crouched low between two thorny shrubs, staring unblinkingly at the

prince with its hungry, yellow eyes. Roaring once, as if in warning, the lion

walked implacably towards him, never averting its burning gaze.

Suddenly, it dawned on Hiranyagupta that he was unarmed – his bow and

arrows were on his runaway horse! All thoughts of thirst-quenching water

fled his mind and the prince turned tail and ran for his life. A quick

backward glance showed the lion in hot pursuit, and definitely gaining on

him!

Hiranyagupta burst out of the thicket: there before him, as though offering

him sanctuary, stood a tree. The prince darted to it and frantically scrambled

up the trunk.

Sitting on a branch, concealed by the thick foliage, he gave a sigh of relief

and cautiously peered down. To his astonishment, the lion squatted

determinedly on the ground beneath, staring up at him with its ravenous

eyes, its red tongue lolling menacingly.

An ominous rustle along the branch now drew his attention – a colossal

black shadow moved towards him, crushing the foliage. It was a huge black

bear! Hiranyagupta shivered uncontrollably, as panic gripped him, and

broke out in a cold sweat. The bear came to a stop near him and stared

unblinkingly into his terrified eyes.

Hiryanagupta, petrified by abject fear, looked alternatively at the lion,

which waited for him at the foot of the tree, and the bear, which was

crouched on the branch. His eyes protruded from his pale face …

"Don't be afraid. Like you, I have climbed the tree in order to escape from

the lion. Both of us are in the same dangerous predicament," the bear

assured him in flawless human speech.

Hiranyagupta could not believe his ears. "You … you … you can speak?!"

he stammered.

"When humans can behave like animals, tell me – why can't animals speak

like humans?" the bear retorted. "Our mutual fear of being torn apart by the

lion's claws has made us the dearest of friends. Don't worry, I will not harm

you!"

Prince Hiranyagupta heaved a great sigh of relief and introduced himself to

his new ursine friend. The bear moved closer to him, as if to emphasize

their solidarity. The lion, disappointed at missing its prey by a whisker,

crouched patiently at the foot of the tree, staring unblinkingly at the man

and beast perched companionably together on the branch above. The sun set

and darkness shrouded the forest. Hiranyagupta, tormented by the pangs of

thirst and hunger, slowly surrendered to his fatigue and nodded off.

The bear, aware that the prince was in danger of falling to the ground in his

sleep, said sympathetically, "Hiranya, you are exhausted. Place your head in

my lap and go to sleep – I will keep watch. I will wake you in the middle of

the night and then get some rest myself."

The exhausted prince took the bear up on its offer and placed his head in its

lap. The bear clutched him protectively with its forelegs, securing him from

falls. Within minutes, Hiranyagupta was fast asleep and snoring.

At the sound of the snores, the waiting lion came to its feet and addressed

the bear. "Oh king of the bears! You are indeed naïve! The man belongs to

the human race. He would not hesitate to hunt and kill us. There is no

denying the fact that men and animals are sworn enemies. Push him down

to me: I will sate the pangs of hunger by devouring him and go on my way,

leaving you alone. Come – throw the man down and save yourself!"

"I have given him my word to protect him as he sleeps. I will not go back

on my promise. Are you not aware that breaking a promise is a great sin?"

the bear declared staunchly.

The disappointed lion gave up its vigil and stalked away into the forest,

leaving the man and the bear on the tree.

At midnight, the bear roused the prince and said, "My friend, it is your turn

to keep watch – be very careful. The lion has gone into the thicket: but, on

no account must you climb down."

With this warning, the bear in turn placed its head in the prince's lap and

sank into a deep slumber. The hours passed slowly. Hearing the soft pad of

paws below, Hiranyagupta peered down. The lion had returned – it gazed

back at him unblinkingly.

"Oh, prince, I will spare your life if you accept my only condition: you must

satisfy my hunger. Heed my advice: push the bear down to me. I will feast

on it and go my way, leaving you alone. You can depart safely in the

morning and make your own way home."

Hiranyagupta stared at the lion in astonishment. Like the bear, the lion was

also capable of speech!

"If you do not accede to my terms, I warn you that I will remain under this

tree for any number of days. I will not go until I have sated my appetite by

eating either you or the bear – the choice is yours!"

Hiranyagupta pondered awhile. Then, "Do you promise to leave me alone?

Will you keep your side of the bargain?"

"I am the king of the jungle!" the lion declared haughtily. "Kings never go

back on their words." The animal urged the prince: "Come on! The bear is

fast asleep – shove it off the branch at once!"

Hiranyagupta thought quickly. He rationalized: the bear was a creature of

the jungle; it would inevitably fall prey to the lion – if not today, then on

another day. It was fated to be eaten by the lion. Whereas, if he sacrificed

the bear to the lion, his own life would be saved. After all, survival was

man's most basic instinct!

Having made up his mind, Hiranyagupta squared his shoulders and gave the

peacefully sleeping bear a mighty push. However, the bear awoke into

instant alertness and saved itself by instinctively clinging to a branch.

Seated securely on the tree, the bear glared at Hiranyagupta in

overwhelming contempt. "You wretch! You have proved your inherent

viciousness of character. You have stooped so low as to betray a comrade to

save your own life. However, I will not throw you to the lion. I will inflict

punishment for your betrayal with a curse: may you become insane!"

The lion kept up its nocturnal vigil through the long hours. When dawn

broke, the disappointed animal gave up and went on its way. The bear

descended from the tree and disappeared into the jungle.

Hiranyagupta remained on the tree. As the bear's curse took effect, he tore

his clothes into tatters and jumped down from his perch. He wandered

aimlessly in the jungle, gesticulating wildly to himself.

After combing the forest in futile search of Hiranyagupta, the prince's

hunting party finally gave up and returned to Pataliputra in despair.

Days passed into weeks and weeks into months. King Yogananda persisted

in dispatching search parties into the forest and to neighboring countries.

Each one returned empty handed, unable to gather even a whisper of the

missing prince's whereabouts.

The grief-stricken king and queen finally gave up hope and confronted the

fact that their only son and heir was no longer alive. A pall of gloom

descended on the palace.

Then, one day, a madman, incapable of speech, sought entry into

Pataliputra. Fortuitously, one of the sentries at the gates recognized him to

be their long-lost crown prince. The soldiers quickly ushered him to the

royal palace. The king and queen were delighted to have their son back, but

heart-broken at his pitiable state.

King Yogananda ordered the court physicians to treat the prince urgently.

However, after long weeks of medical treatment, there was no perceptible

improvement in Hiranyagupta: he remained speechless and insane.

The disconsolate King Yogananda called a meeting with his minister,

Sakataala, the physician and the court astrologer.

"My king," the physician reported. "I have treated the prince for the past six

months. In addition to following my own diagnosis, I have also consulted

the learned royal physicians of neighboring countries and experimented

with the medicines prescribed by them – all to no effect! The powerful

medications I am using on the prince just disperse harmlessly like

asafoetida in the waters of the ocean ."

"You could have at least attempted to restore his faculty of speech ," King

Yogananda complained.

"My Lord," the doctor asserted, "I have tried every means at my disposal to

cure his speech impairment. At all waking hours, I have subjected the

prince to various techniques geared to make his speak." The physician was

apologetic. "In fact, begging your pardon, I have even stooped to the crude

method of burning him with a red hot poker – even then, he did not utter a

sound!"

"Incredible!" Sakataala exclaimed.

"Based on his reaction to my treatment, and my own experience, I am

forced to conclude that the prince suffers from irreversible, chronic speech

impairment. He is dumb, my Lord – not observing an oath of silence!"

King Yogananda sighed and bowed his head in despair. He turned to the

court astrologer.

"Acharya, have you consulted the prince's horoscope?"

"Yes, my king," the astrologer affirmed. "I have made an extended, in-depth

study of his horoscope and persisted in my calculations for weeks. At the

end of it, I must admit that I am unable to fathom the cause of the prince's

malady – nor am I able to predict its duration or course." The Acharya

could not resist adding, "If I may remind the king, on the fateful day, I

voiced my objection to the prince's hunting expedition …"

King Yogananda cut him off with a curt, "Anyone with access to an

almanac would be capable of making that prediction, Acharya – we do not

need a court astrologer to tell us that!"

"I will be frank, my king," the astrologer confessed, "My command over

astrology is not strong enough to deduce the reason for the prince's

condition."

"Acharya Vararuchi was adept at advising me on such matters," the king

reprimanded his astrologer. "The horoscope you examined is based on his

infallible calculations!"

The court astrologer folded his hands piously and turned his eyes to the sky.

"Acharya Vararuchi was an astrologer and astronomer past compare! He

was the ultimate authority in both those sciences! He was a matchless

scholar – in fact, I would say that he was the male personification of the

Goddess Saraswati herself! There can be no comparison between that

vidwaan and my humble self. It is our misfortune that he is dead!"

The king, controlling his temper with difficulty, snapped: "Very well,

Acharya , you may go!"

The astrologer rose and made his departure.

"What the astrologer said was absolutely true, Maharaj," Sakataala said.

"Acharya Vararuchi could gauge the past, present and future: if he were

now here with us, he could easily deduce the reason behind the prince's

unfortunate plight."

King Yogananda nodded in silence.

"He could have suggested the appropriate measures to cure the prince's

speech impairment and insanity."

"Vararuchi, with his knowledge of the past, present and future, has himself

vanished into the past, minister!" Yogananda sighed.

"With due respect, my lord," the minister said, "that was our own

transgression."

"Yes, yes," the king muttered, "I fully accept that it was my misguided

judgement!"

"Have you heard of Acharya Vararuchi?" Nirvikalpananda paused to ask his

disciples.

"We are familiar with his name but know little about him, master. Do tell us

more!"

"Very well," said Nirvikalpananda and continued. "Vararuchi, King

Vikramarka, Bhatti and Bhartrhari were cousins. They were born to one

father who married four women of different castes. Vararuchi was born to

the Brahmin wife and Vikramarka to the Kshatriya wife. Bhatti's mother

was a Vysya and Bhartrhari's a Sudra.

"Vararuchi became an expert in the scriptures: the knowledge of the Vedas,

Puranas, Grammar and Mathematics was at his fingertips. He was a past

master in astrology. Based on his calculations of the Navagrahas’ positions,

he could accurately predict the past, present and future. At that period, he

was the only eminent scholar who was proficient in both astrology and

astronomy.

"His proficiency in casting and reading horoscopes matched that of

Brhaspati, the preceptor of the gods. In addition to forecasting events based

on his study of an individual's horoscope, Vararuchi also possessed an

uncanny ability: based on the alignment of the Navagrahas at that particular

point of time, he could perceive and describe all the physical features of a

person. This extraordinary skill posed a threat to his very life. Vararuchi

was King Yogananda's court astrologer. The king held him in high esteem."

"Then why did the king order him to be killed, master?" Sadananda was

bursting with curiosity.

"One day, a renowned artist visited King Yogananda's court. The king

commissioned him to paint the queen's portrait. The king and queen were

delighted with the artist's work, which was a faithful replica of the queen.

One morning, in the the king and queen's absence, Vararuchi happened to

be in the chamber in which the painting was displayed. While examining it,

the astrologer realized that a small mole present on the queen's lower

abdomen was missing in the portrait. Thinking to correct the defect,

Vararuchi painted the mole on that particular spot and left.

"Later, to his shock, the king observed the mole, which had not been there

earlier. Discreet interrogation of the maids in the queen's apartments

revealed that the alteration was Acharya Vararuchi's handiwork.

"King Yogananda was outraged: how could Vararuchi be aware of this

small mole on an intimate part of the queen's anatomy, which could have

been observed only by himself and his wife? Had he been foolish in trusting

Vararuchi and granting him unrestricted access to the queen's apartments?

Was the astrologer a secret voyeur – had he spied on the queen's privacy on

one of his frequent visits?

"In King Yogananda's eyes, Vararuchi's transgression was an unpardonable

crime. The king summoned his minister, explained the details of the

astrologer's depravity and ordered Sakataala to behead Vararuchi. In reality,

Vararuchi had not seen the mole on the queen's abdomen: based on his

study of the planets' alignment at the time of her birth, he visualized, in his

mind's eye, that such a mole would be present at that spot."

Nirvikalpananda paused.

"What irony, master!" Chidananda exclaimed. "Vararuchi was killed by the

revelation of his own astrological insight!"

"But, master," Shivananda asked thoughtfully, "why did Acharya Vararuchi

not have the good sense and discretion to avoid exposing the intimate

details of the queen's anatomy to public view?"

"Minister Sakataala himself posed this question to Vararuchi before his

execution. The astrologer's simple reply was, ‘the grahas’ influence.'

Vararuchi explained that it was the malignant influence of the planets which

had instigated him to unnecessarily meddle with the queen's portrait. He

categorically declared that the Navagrahas were the basic catalysts of all

thought and action. Let's leave it at that and go on with our story."

Nirvikalpananda picked up the thread of Vararuchi's tale.

"How I regret impetuously imposing the death penalty on Vararuchi," King

Yogananda lamented to his minister.

"Your majesty: are you reproaching yourself?" Sakataala asked with an

enigmatic smile.

"Yes," asserted the king. "If Acharya Vararuchi were alive, he would have

discovered the reason for the prince's wretched condition." He

disconsolately placed his chin on his hand and sank into despair. "What is to

be done , everything is a matter of destiny, ordained by the will of God."

"If it pleases your majesty … shall I bring Acharya Vararuchi here?"

Sakataala asked.

"What?!" gasped the king. "Can you restore the beheaded Vararuchi to

life?!"

"Majesty," the minister explained carefully. "On that day, you let yourself

be carried away by your anger and humiliation. Ignoring a basic tenet of

wisdom – always think twice before acting, you pronounced your harsh

judgement on Vararuchi. Knowing Acharya Vararuchi well, I interrogated

him and accepted his explanation. On your behalf, I ventured to commute

his sentence: instead of beheading him, I have secretly imprisoned him in

an underground cell ."

"Do you mean … do you mean to tell me that Vararuchi lives?"

"Yes, my lord! If you pardon him, I will immediately bring the Acharya

here."

"Pardon? Sakataala, I am impatient to beg the Acharya’s pardon for my

hasty, foolish deed!" King Yogananda said excitedly. "Please bring him here

with all due respect."

"Acharya,’’ the repentant king said, "please forgive me for my impetuous

judgment and bless me."

"May all you desire be yours!" blessed Vararuchi. He continued: "The

queen is akin to my own sister. Both physical and mental traits can be

perceived with the aid of astrological calculations, based on horoscopes and

the alignment of the grahas . This is what happened in the case of the

queen's portrait. Due to the inimical impact of the planets on me at that

particular time, I indiscreetly altered the painting: such an action was

unworthy of me. I was awarded due punishment. You were just an

instrument in the hands of fate!"

"Your words demonstrate your large-heartedness, Acharya!’’ the king said.

"We are fortunate to have you with us again." He turned to his minister.

"The credit goes to the wise Sakataala."

‘Although I express my deep gratitude to our learned minister, I must

emphasize one point," Vararuchi smiled serenely. "When the king sentenced

me to death, the alignment of the planets did not support such an

eventuality. That is why our able minister was inspired to save my head!"

King Yogananda smiled wryly. "For you, everything is ordained by the

grahas’ alignment!"

"Certainly," the astrologer emphasized. "Mercy or otherwise, everything

depends on the planets' influence."

"Let me bring you up to date: Prince Hiranyagupta, our only heir, went

missing while on a hunting expedition. He returned after a long absence,

having mysteriously been struck dumb – to compound his sorry plight, he is

also insane." The king's voice was grief-stricken. "Acharya, I beg you:

please study our son's horoscope and suggest a remedy."

The queen quickly came to her feet. "I will fetch Hiranya's horoscope at

once, Acharya.’’

"That will not be necessary, my queen," Vararuchi smiled reassuringly. ‘All

the three royal horoscopes are indelibly etched in my mind. Just give me a

moment …"

A tense silence, pregnant with expectation, fell on the chamber. Vararuchi

narrowed his eyes in concentration – his nimble fingers twitched in rapid

count.

The astrologer opened his eyes and looked at his three attentive listeners.

"Chandra, standing in an adversarial position, has his malignant face turned

towards our prince. Chandra graha’s adverse influence is wreaking havoc

on Hiranyagupta's mind: this is the reason for his madness."

King Yogananda and his queen exchanged anxious looks.

Vararuchi continued: "A forest creature's curse has further reinforced

Chandra's unfavourable impact."

"Forest creature? What could that be, Acharya ?" Yogananda frowned.

"In line with the prince's horoscope, it is an animal covered with thick,

black hair."

"Your description suggests a bear, Acharya,” Sakataala said thoughtfully.

"Yes," Vararuchi agreed. "My astrological insight also perceives a bear."

"But, this is ridiculous!" the king spluttered. "Incredible! How can a dumb

animal pronounce a curse!?"

"Countless incredible phenomenon are part of this vast creation, my king,"

Vararuchi said sanguinely. "There can be no room for error in my

calculations. Once he has recovered, the prince himself will validate my

theory."

"Acharya, tell us the cure for my son's madness," Yogananda asked.

"There is but one cure: we must change Chandra's influence from the

adversarial to the favourable. This can be accomplished by paying homage

to Chandra graha.”

"Acharya , I have a doubt …" King Yoganada said hesitantly.

"Yes, Maharaj?”

"Earlier, you could perceive the mole on the queen's body based on the

grahas’ orbits. Now, you have deduced the cause of the prince's malady on

the same basis. Please tell me, how is this possible?"

"In addition to the accurate position of the Navagrahas and their orbits,

impeccable mathematical computation, instinctive perception and unbiased

logic are essential. The wondrous human brain is capable of storing and

processing vast amounts of information. The three factors I mentioned form

the foundation of the knowledge of the past, present and future – the

scriptures term such learning Thirkaalajantha ."

"Very interesting," said the king in admiration. "Now, please advise us as to

how we can modify Chandra graha 's malignant influence."

"Certainly, Maharaj," said Vararuchi. "I will give my instructions to our

royal purohit regarding the appropriate homams. He will oversee the rituals

to be performed by you and the queen. Once the prescribed rites have been

completed, the prince will be his normal self."

Nirvikalpananda smiled at his disciples, who gazed at him in rapt attention.

"Following Acharya Vararuchi's counsel, King Yogananda worshipped

Chandra graha . The power of the rites, combined with the parents'

unblemished affection, worked wonders. Prince Hiranyagupta was cured of

both the ailments which had plagued him for months. Recovering his sanity

and his power of speech, the prince narrated the details of his harrowing

experience in the forest.

"King Yogananda and Minister Sakataala lavished praise on Acharya

Vararuchi for the keenness of his inner vision, based on his vast astrological

knowledge."

"Master," asked Sadananda, "are there other epic characters who were

affected by Chandra graha 's malignant influence?"

"There would have certainly been innumerable such persons, Sadananda,"

Nirvikalpananda said. "Expert astrologers interpret the daily occurrences in

the lives of people in the light of the Navagrahas’ influence. In order to

enhance our understanding of this, we studied Chandra's powerful

influence. Let us now consider the glory of Kuja, the third graha. "

The Glory of Kuja

“Dharanee garbha sambhutham Vidyut kaanthi Sama prabham!

Kumaaram Saktihastam tam Raahum Pranamaamyaham!!”

I offer my salutations to Mangala (Kuja) who is born from the womb of

the Earth, who is resplendent like lightning, who is (called) Kumara,

and who holds the weapon, Sakti, in his hand.

"A ccording to the scriptures, Kuja, the third of the grahas – he who was

born from a drop of Lord Shiva's sweat, exerts his power over warfare and

the acquisition of land. In acknowledgement of this, he is also known as

Yuddha kaaraka and Bhukaaraka in Sanskrit. Kuja has a particularly

significant influence on the unity and understanding between spouses in a

marital relationship."

"Master," said Shivananda, "do tell us the story of an individual who

acquired land under Kuja's benign influence."

‘At the outset," said Nirvikalpananda, "let me make it clear that there is no

specific mention of any individual who gained property through Kuja's

intercession. However, by analyzing particular events in a person's life, it is

possible to reach the logical conclusion that it was Kuja graha’s malign or

benign impact which dictated that particular course of events. This is what

we shall now do.

"Who was that person, master?" Chidananda asked eagerly.

"Not one person, but two!" Nirvikalpananda smiled. "Both these individuals

feature in our renowned epic, the Ramayana. One is the protagonist, while

the other is , what shall I say , a character who did not receive her fair due. I

refer to Lord Sri Rama and to Lakshmana's wife, Urmila. Some astrologers

hold that Sita was also influenced by Kuja ."

"It is rather surprising to hear that Kuja held sway over the lives of such

renowned personalities," Vimalananda wondered.

"There is nothing surprising about this, Vimalananda," Nirvikalpananda

said. "It is evident that these characters from the Ramayana faced untold

hardships due to Kuja's adverse influence. Let me make it clear to you once

again…

"The Telugu epic, Ranganatha Ramayana, claims that the unique position

of the seven grahas at that particular time influenced Rama's birth. After

all, this was no ordinary birth – it was the beginning of Sri Mahavishnu's

incarnation as Sri Rama! So, it can rightly be accepted that Sri Rama's birth

was determined and shaped by the position of the grahas.

"Again, we are acquainted with the fact that Sri Rama could kill Ravana

only after reciting the Aditya Hrdaya in praise of Surya, under Sage

Agastya's instructions. This …"

"Yes, master," Chidananda intervened. "You touched on this in your

discourse on Surya's glory."

"So, we are certain that Rama was under the influence of the grahas , both

at the time of his birth and at the end of the Lankan war. It is but a logical

extension to assume that the grahas’ benign and malignant effect persisted

through the intervening years of his life also. Every corporeal body is the

combination of the panchabhutas and is rightly called the panchabhutikam:

the five bhutas, or elements, being earth, water, fire, air and ether. This

combination holds good even for God's incarnation in human form.

Consequently, divine incarnations are also susceptible to the pangs of

hunger and thirst, and experience hardship and sorrow like any other human

being. Therefore, the Supreme God's incarnations are also subject to the

Navagrahas’ influence."

"Master, your explanation has given us new insight into the power of the

Navagrahas!” Chidananda marveled.

"Yes, we now understand that every living being, without exception, is

affected by the Navagrahas. Let us now analyze the lives of Rama, Sita and

Urmila in the light of this undisputed fact.

"Lakshmana opted to serve his brother and sister-in-law during their forest

exile. Urmila also offered to accompany them to the forest, but was turned

down by Lakshmana, who left her behind in Ayodhya. Like her husband,

the Ramayana too ignored Urmila! Urmila had to endure fourteen long

years of separation from her husband, until Lakshmana returned from his

voluntary exile and the Lankan war."

"Isn't it said that Urmila remained in a deep slumber during that fourteen

year period, master?" Sadananda asked.

"Yes," Nirvikalpananda said, "Urmiladevi Nidra – the Sleep of Urmila

Devi, is a popular Telegu song. However, we do not know for certain that

Urmila slept throughout her enforced solitude. All we know is that she

suffered the agony of separation from her beloved husband.

"Urmila's painful separation from her husband was undoubtedly the result

of Kujagraha's unfavourable influence. Similarly, Rama and Sita also

experienced Kuja's malign effect. Sita was separated from her lord; in

Rama's case, this hardship was further compounded by the hazards of his

battle with the demonic Ravana."

"So, we can conclude that Kuja's unfavourable influence was the cause of

Urmila's long parting from her husband, Rama's separation from Sita and

his war with Ravana," Chidananda commented.

Nirvikalpananda chuckled. "Obviously, if Kuja's benign countenance was

turned towards Sri Rama and Sita, they would not have been separated from

each other and Rama would not have suffered the trial of the Lankan war.

The same goes for Urmila." He paused. ‘As we are all familiar with the

story of the Ramayana , I will not delve any further into it. I have confined

myself to pointing out the relevant incidents which highlight Kuja's power

and glory."

"Yes, master," Vimalananda agreed, "there is no need to go into details of

the Ramayana. Let us move on to the glory of Budha."

"Very well," said Nirvikalpananda, "let us hear of Budha's greatness."

The Glory of Budha

“Priyangu gulikaasyaamam roopena apratimam Budham!

Soumyam Soumyagunopetam tam Budham Pranamaamyaham!!”

I offer my salutations to Budha who is of dark blue complexion like the

Priyangu bud, who is wise, who is of incomparable beauty, who is

(called) Soumya and who is of benevolent quality.

"B udha is the graha who bestows the gifts of wisdom,

intelligence and skill. He is the master of lipi – the script. It is he who

grants mathematical knowledge and poetic aptitude. He exerts his influence

on other similar fields: but, let us confine our present narrative to his

bequest of intelligence and knowledge.

"Panini occupies pride of place among all the renowned intellectuals who

Budha blessed with uncommon intelligence and wisdom. It is Panini who

gave the people of Bharat the Paanineeyam , the comprehensive theory of

Sanskrit grammar. This monumental work of eight volumes is also known

as the Ashtaadhyaayi ."

"Master," asked Vimalananda, "Maharshi Patanjali has authored an

annotation of Panini's grammar, isn't it?"

"Yes, my boy," Nirvikalpananda said approvingly. "The Mahabhaashyam,

Patanjali's explanatory comments on the Paanineeyam, is the greatest

annotation of all time. Linguists hold the Paanineeyam to be one of a kind:

comprehensive, logical and widely acknowledged as unique. In fact, it is

not merely a treatise on grammar, but is accepted as a comprehensive and

authoritative science of language.

"Panini, the author of this peerless text, was slow-witted in his childhood.

In fact, he was so obtuse, that several teachers refused to accept him as a

student! Panini was born in Saalaatura, a village near the city of Pataliputra.

To his intense disappointment, on reaching the appropriate age, he was

turned down by all the village teachers he approached for instruction.

Panini reached Pataliputra in search of a master who would accept him as a

disciple. He heard of a renowned guru , Varshaacharya, who ran a gurukul

paatasaala in the city. This master was reputed to have the skill to turn even

an ignoramus into an intellectual. Panini went to Varshaacharya's ashram

and expressed his passion for knowledge, and his misfortune in being

unable to find a preceptor. Panini requested the guru to accept him as his

disciple and bestow an education on him. Varshaacharya, moved by Panini's

sad tale, empathized with his enthusiasm. Believing that Panini's intense

desire to acquire an education would ultimately make him a scholar,

Varshaacharya accepted him as his pupil and commenced his tutelage.

"However, to Varshaacharya's deep chagrin, it soon became evident that his

faith in Panini was misplaced. Panini clearly lacked both skills of

comprehension and memory, failing to reach even the standard of the

youngest novices. The seasons and years went by inexorably –but Panini

showed no improvement. Varshaacharya permitted him to remain at his

ashram for two reasons: Panini's unparalleled devotion to his guru and his

stubborn effort to learn. However, finally, Varshaacharya was forced to

concede that Panini's persistence would merely see him waste the remaining

period of his life in hopeless endeavor. The guru summoned Panini to a

private audience ."

Nirvikalpananda continued his narration.

Panini touched his master's feet in respect and stood before him with folded

hands. Varshaacharya gazed intently at his pupil's face. "Panini, an

education is indeed valuable. However, time is even more valuable! All

human beings have a limited lifespan. I have come to a regretful

conclusion: no matter how hard you try, an education is beyond your

intellectual reach. You too should have grasped this truth by this time. You

are patently unable to learn anything – you are merely wasting your

valuable time here."

"Master, I am indifferent to the passage of time: I need the education!"

Panini insisted respectfully.

Varshaacharya's voice was tinged with pity: "I am aware of that, Panini.

But, a life should not be frittered away on hopeless endeavor. Every man

must strive to achieve greatness with or without an education. Go into the

world; take up a profession and live a fruitful life."

"Master …" Panini's voice was choked with grief.

"Panini, you are an object of ridicule to disciples who are much younger

than you. My own reputation is at stake, as I am unable to make you a

scholar. You must undertake tasks which match your capabilities and lead a

fruitful life. As of tomorrow, you are no longer a part of this ashram!"

Varshaacharya pronounced his categorical decision and left the room.

Panini's tear-filled eyes followed his master's exit.

That night, Varshaacharya's wife said, "Swami , I heard that you have asked

Panini to leave the ashram . He loves and respects us more than a son

could. Can you not change your decision?"

"It appears that Lord Brahma has decreed that Panini is to end his life

without acquiring an education. He simply does not possess the intellectual

capacity to comprehend and memorize lessons. I am

constantly in a rage: either castigating Panini for his inability to learn

anything, despite my continuous tutelage, or castigating his fellow-

disciples for mocking him! This is certainly not a desirable state of affairs."

Varshaacharya continued firmly: "Tomorrow morning, serve Panini a meal,

give him some money for his travelling expenses and send him on his way."

The next morning, as Varshaacharya instructed his disciples, Panini

approached him with leaden feet and a heavy heart. He prostrated himself

before his guru for the last time.

Varshaacharya blessed him: "My boy, don't worry. One's first priority is to

nourish the body – the body is the only instrument through which a man can

achieve anything. Discard your obsession for an education and live

happily!"

Bidding his fellow disciples a tearful farewell, Panini made his way to the

inner rooms of the hermitage to take leave of his master's wife.

Panini's tears gushed over her feet, as he prostrated himself before his

gurupatni. She lifted him up tenderly and gazed into his eyes. She lovingly

wiped away his tears, ignoring her own and consoled him: "My dear Panini,

do not misinterpret your master's decision. It is just that you are incapable

of studying – and my husband is incapable of teaching you."

"Mother," asked Panini, controlling his grief with difficulty, "if a great

teacher like Varshaacharya himself cannot bestow the blessing of learning

on me, who can?"

The master's wife smiled and said, "Panini, there is indeed a teacher who is

greater than your guru, Varshaacharya! He is the Guru of all gurus!"

"Mother?!"

"Yes, Panini, there is a universal guru who authored the four Vedas , the six

Angaas , the scriptures and the Puranas . He is none other than Lord Shiva!

Go to the Himalayas and propitiate him with your penance. Beseech him to

grant you the boon of learning."

"Mother," Panini said in a tremulous voice, "do you really advise this?"

"Go, Panini," his master's wife said persuasively. "I assure you that you will

secure Lord Shiva's blessings. Chant the sacred Panchaakshari mantra

devoutly, immersing yourself in dedicated penance."

Panini dried his eyes and touched his master's wife's feet in respect saying,

"Mother, I will return after gaining the wealth of education!"

"May victory be yours!" his master's wife blessed him with the touch of her

palm on his bowed head.

Panini commenced his single-minded penance in the Himalayas. Forgoing

food and water, he immersed himself in the continuous, devout recitation of

the Panchaakshari mantra. He was oblivious to the snow which piled and

froze about him. The wheels of time rolled on. The frozen snow melted and

rivulets of water formed canals above his motionless body – Panini

remained indifferent to the changing seasons.

"Panini!" a sombre voice thundered across the skies.

Panini's eyelids trembled and opened slowly. The benign form of Lord

Shiva stood before him!

"Bhagavan! Lord Shiva! The Universal Guru !" Panini's voice trembled in

ecstasy. "Learning! Learning! I beseech you – bestow on me the boon of

learning!"

Lord Shiva said sympathetically, "Panini, an obstacle stands in the way of

your desire. Until it is removed, I cannot grant your boon."

"Bhagavan …"

"Let me tell you the nature of this obstacle," Lord Shiva said with a smile.

"It is Budha's malignant influence. Budha, the fourth of the Navagrahas, is

unfavorably disposed towards you. His adverse effect must first be

transformed into a positive attitude …"

"Bhagavan …" Panini attempted to interrupt.

Shiva silenced him with a raised hand. "I know what you are trying to say.

However, each god has his individual, well-defined authority and duty. I

will not change Budha's influence on you: it is you who must propitiate

Budha and secure his blessing. Once that has been accomplished, I will

grant you the boon of learning."

Panini prostrated himself at Lord Shiva's feet. ‘As you command, Bhagavan

"May Budha be magnanimous to you!" Lord Shiva raised his hand in

blessing and vanished.

Without losing any further time in obeying Lord Shiva's command, Panini

commenced his worship in propitiation of Budha. His single-minded,

arduous penance reached the heights of intensity – then, Budha appeared

before him. Panini, shedding tears of supplication, beseeched Budha to

bless him with his magnanimous countenance.

Budha said gently, "Panini, my unfavourable influence was the consequence

of your deeds in your previous life. Your penance has been fruitful. You

will master all the arts. Lord Shiva himself will be your guru !" "I am

blessed, Bhagavan !"

"May good fortune be yours! Pray to Lord Shiva!" Budha advised and

disappeared.

With renewed energy and confidence, Panini worshipped Lord Shiva.

Almost immediately, Lord Shiva appeared before him, suffused in the glow

of the setting sun.

"Bhagavan, I beg you to grant me learning," Panini asked respectfully.

Lord Shiva said, "Panini, concentrate on the sound of my damaruka .

Consign those sounds to your memory."

Lord Shiva's hand was a blur of movement as the sound of his damaruka

echoed across the calm dusk of the Himalayas. Interspersed with pregnant

pauses, the drum resonated fourteen times, producing fourteen different

types of sound. The anklets on Lord Shiva's feet chimed joyously in

melodious accompaniment, as he danced to the beat of the damaruka .

Lord Shiva ceased his Ananda Taandav and smiled at the awed Panini.

"Panini, you have heard the music of my damaruka and my anklets. The

anklets' notes constitute the meanings of the damaruka’s sounds."

Panini broke out in goosebumps. He prayed, "Bhagavan, the fourteen

divine sounds of the damaruka will comprise the ‘Fourteen Laws of

Maheswara,' which I will constitute into the Maaheswara Sutras. Grant me

your permission for this."

"So be it!" Lord Shiva serenely blessed Panini's endeavor.

"Bhagavan, I will formulate the science of grammar on the foundation of

the Fourteen Laws of the Maaheswara Sutras ." Panini's voice throbbed

with eager excitement.

"Bravo! Just as health is essential to a body, grammar is essential to a

language. I hereby bestow the title Panineeyam on the grammatical treatise

to be written by you!"

"I am indeed blessed, Bhagavan ! In honour of your eight divine forms, I

will design my grammatical work in eight volumes."

"Your wishes will be fulfilled!" Lord Shiva raised his hand in blessing. "In

future, you will be an integral part of my divine court."

Nirvikalpananda addressed his disciples: "Panini went on to write his

treatise on grammar in eight volumes, based on the fourteen laws of the

Maaheswara Sutras , also known as the Pratyaahaara Sutras – granted by

Lord Shiva through the sounds of his damaruka. Based on its eight- volume

format, the Panineeyam is renowned as the Ashtaadhyaayi – a work in eight

chapters. Panini has established approximately four thousand grammatical

rules in these eight chapters. Maharshi Patanjali, the incarnation of

Aadisesha himself, has written his explication of the Panineeyam under the

title, Mahabhaashyam – the Great Annotation.

"Varshaacharya and his wife rejoiced wholeheartedly at Panini's triumphant

return with Lord Shiva's boons. Panini explained how Budha's blessings

constituted the gateway to Lord Shiva's grace. In the course of time, the

great Panini became a member of Lord Shiva's assembly in Kailash, along

with Bhrngi, Bhrngiriti and Nandi. They were later joined by Patanjali, he

of the human head and serpent body, who wrote the Great Annotation.

Panini and Patanjali became intimate friends. We have now heard of

Budha's glory through Panini's life," Nirvikalpananda concluded his

narration.

The GLory of Guru

“Devaanaam cha Rsheenaam cha Gurum Kaanchana sannibham!

Buddhimantam Trilokesam tam namaami Bhrhaspatim!!"

I offer my salutations to Brhaspati, who is the preceptor of the gods

and sages, who is resplendent like gold, who is the personification of

wisdom and who is the lord of the three worlds.

"G uru is the graha who bestows Vedic knowledge, devotion and

concentration, fame and honour, education, children and wealth. Let us hear

the story of an individual who obtained edifying knowledge, fame and

wealth by propitiating Guru …"

"Master," interrupted Sadananda in uncontrollable eagerness, "who was this

fortunate person who received these numerous blessings from Guru

graha?"

"Have you heard of the great Sanskrit poet, Bhaaravi?" Nirvikalpananda

asked.

"Master, we have heard of him and his literary work, Kiraataarjuneeyam,’’

Shivananda replied.

“Kiraataarjuneeyam is one among the five great kaavyas in Sanskrit. The

other four are Raghuvamsam and Kumaarasambhavam written by

Kaalidasa, Naishadham by Sriharsha and Sisupaalavadham by Maagha.

Bhaaravi's Kiraataarjuneeyam is such a magnum opus that it also holds a

prominent place in the celebrated trilogy, Brhat Trayi – the Great Three."

"Master," asked Vimalananda, "what are the other two works in the Brhat

Trayi?"

"One is Sriharsha's Naishadha and the other is Maagha Mahaakavi's

Sisupaalavadham . Another point of significance is that, while the

renowned poet, Kaalidasa, is celebrated for his similes, Bhaaravi is reputed

for his artha gourava. Bhaaravi's poetic skills bloomed in his childhood

itself and emitted their fragrance when he was but a youth.

"The scholars of his period praised the young prodigy in his father's

presence saying, "Narayanaswami is blessed to have a son like Bhaaravi!"

"However, Narayanaswami himself would airily declare, "Bhaaravi is just a

child who does not know much about poetry .He lacks in-depth knowledge.

He does not deserve your praise. There is much for him to learn."

Narayanaswami persisted in treating Bhaaravi as an ignoramus.

"Bhaaravi, who relished the scholars' applause, was disgruntled by his

father's criticism, which increased in proportion to his son's popular

acclaim. Bhaaravi could no longer stomach his father demeaning him in

public. His young blood boiled in indignation. Deciding that a father who

insulted his own son was unfit to live, he plotted to murder his parent. One

night, armed with a heavy boulder, Bhaaravi climbed into the loft above his

father's bed and concealed himself there: his plan was to bash his father's

head with the rock and kill him in his sleep. His father came to the room

and prepared for bed. At that juncture, Bhaaravi's mother entered the

chamber…"

"I was very unhappy with your behavior this morning," Bhaaravi's

indignant mother complained to her husband.

"My behavior? What about it? Be more explicit!" Narayanaswami smiled

indulgently.

"The whole world is praising our Bhaaravi as a 'great poet.' Instead of

basking in the acclaim of the scholars, you are demeaning him in public by

saying, ‘He lacks in-depth knowledge … He does not deserve your praise.'

Do you realize how hard this is for Bhaaravi and how grief-stricken he is at

this public humiliation by his own father?"

Narayanaswami broke into peals of laughter at his wife's criticism. "Oh, is

this what bothers you? You are very naive – remember, applause is

intoxicating. If this intoxication goes to Bhaaravi's head, his intellectual

development will come to a standstill and his ego will assume monstrous

dimensions. Bhaaravi will deviate from the path of wisdom. Our son must

continue to develop in order to achieve greatness. It is my fondest hope that

Bhaaravi will become a great poet: my son must shine as the brightest star

in the literary firmament! With this in mind, I consistently remove the

barriers of applause which could stunt his intellectual growth."

"Really?!"

"What other reason could I have? My heart exults in joyous pride when

people praise my Bhaaravi. But I keep a tight rein on my happiness in order

to promote my son's development. Bhaaravi is now merely a poet – he must

grow into a great poet! Bhaaravi is now just a scholar – he must mature into

a great scholar! Very soon, this will come to pass!"

"Swami , how large-hearted you are!"

"My ambition for my son has given me a large heart! He will overcome the

hazards of praise and applause and achieve excellence!"

"Swami , you do not know how happy your words make me!"

"It is evident, my dear," Narayanaswami smiled. "What could be more

obvious than the tears of joy which course down your cheek?!"

At that juncture, to his parent's astonishment, Bhaaravi jumped down from

the overhead loft. He fell at his father's feet and burst into sobs of

recrimination.

"Father, my poet's heart failed to understand your father's heart! My proud,

shameless heart could not comprehend your love. Misinterpreting your

criticism, I planned to murder you in your sleep with this boulder …"

"Bhaaravi!"

"Yes, father! Public acclaim has turned my head and pride has blinded my

eyes. Please forgive me!"

"Son, you have realized your mistake: your father will forgive you," said his

mother, wiping her own tears.

"No, mother," Bhaaravi cried emphatically. "Forgiveness alone is not

sufficient. Father must first punish me and only then pardon me." He turned

to his father. "Father, pronounce a fitting sentence on this cruel son who

plotted to murder his own father!"

"Swami!" Bhaaravi's mother exclaimed in consternation.

"Sins call for expiation, and misdeeds for punishment. That is the rule of

law! That is the call of justice! It is punishment which liberates an

individual from the guilt of sin." Narayanaswami said sombrely. "I must

impose some appropriate form of punishment on Bhaaravi."

‘As you wish!" Bhaaravi's mother murmured weakly.

"Bhaaravi, here is the punishment which befits your crime: you must live in

your father-in-law's house for six months. You will leave for his house

tomorrow, along with your wife," Narayanaswami concluded seriously.

Bhaaravi's mother heaved a sigh of relief: that did not seem too bad!

Bhaaravi prostrated himself at his father's feet in obedience and prepared

for his departure.

Bhaaravi's mother and father-in-law welcomed him warmly to their house.

They were overjoyed to see their daughter and son-in-law. However, that

joy and affection was short-lived – and vanished into thin air when they

heard that the couple was there on an extended, six month visit.

There was a gradual erosion in the hospitality and respect offered to

Bhaaravi in their house. Subtle slights and negligence became the order of

the day. Soon, his father-in-law's house became a living hell for Bhaaravi,

who was now subject to overt hostility and humiliation.

It dawned on Bhaaravi that his father's punishment was worse than a prison

sentence. He was awed by his father's discernment in condemning him to

this miserable experience. He confronted the naked truth: a father- in-law's

house is heaven for a short sojourn, but hell when extended! Indeed, his

father had punished him in a truly befitting manner!

One day, Bhaaravi's father-in-law summoned him and said, "Look here, my

boy: it is accepted wisdom that work is an integral characteristic of a man.

This implies that anyone who is born a man must take up some profession

and work in order to earn his keep. Eating one's fill, and sitting idly

digesting the meal, is not the hallmark of a man – nor should it be!"

"Father!" exclaimed the distressed Bhaaravi.

"Do my words anger you? Surely, you have come here forsaking your anger

and self-respect, right? It is high time you worked to earn the food you eat

and the comfort you happily take for granted!"

"Father … " Bhaaravi's wife attempted to silence her father.

"What?" he asked sarcastically, "Do you think your husband is too high and

mighty to work? Perhaps you think he should take his ease lolling on the

swing all day?"

"Nothing of that kind, father … it is just that he is unaccustomed to hard

labour … "

Bhaaravi's mother-in-law jumped into the fray. "He is unaccustomed to hard

work?! Very well, let him learn – even buffaloes can be taught to work: why

can't a man?" She glared at her daughter and son-in-law.

"Mother!"

The mother ignored her protesting daughter and turned to her husband. "Do

one thing – terminate our cowherd's services and let our son-in-law take his

place!"

"Excellent idea!" Bhaaravi's father-in-law exulted. "The job does not

require hard labour. All he has to do is keep the cattle from straying." He

turned to command Bhaaravi: "Go! Take the cattle from the barn to the

grazing fields!"

"Father!" Bhaaravi's wife pleaded in a tremulous voice, shedding copious

tears.

Unmoved by her grief, her mother roared, "Your husband will be occupied

tending the cattle from dawn to dusk. He cannot return home for his meals.

You shall cook his food and take it to him in the fields."

Bhaaravi walked slowly to the barn with bowed head.

Bhaaravi, now a cow-herd, tended to the animals under the blistering sun,

taking care to see that the cows did not wander into the paddy fields.

Bringing him his food, his wife regarded her perspiring husband with tear-

filled eyes. Bhaaravi washed his hands and feet and came to sit under the

shade of a tree.

"Your father has given you a very harsh and cruel punishment indeed," she

said, as she placed a mouthful of food in Bhaaravi's hand.

"This is but a befitting expiation for my heinous sin. Father is very wise!

Condemning me to live in my father-in-law's house is like cauterizing a

wound with a medicine-smeared knife!" Bhaaravi smiled ruefully.

"You have even stopped writing poetry after coming here!"

"Yes, I seem to have sunk into depression. It is commonly held that poetry

emerges from pain. However, although I yearn to write about the agony of

my ordeal in my father-in-law's house, I am unable to summon the words! I

fear I have lost my poetic skills!" Bhaarvi heaved a deep sigh.

"Swami , once we leave my father's house at the end of your term of

punishment, we must find a way to live comfortably. You must earn the

money required for our needs."

Bhaaravi shook his head dejectedly. "Here, we are fated to lead a life devoid

of both self-respect and wealth."

"Swami, I heard that the reason for our sorry plight is the grahas’ malignant

influence. Can this be true?"

"Who said this?"

‘An astrologer, who is older than my father, said that your horoscope shows

Guru graha in an adversarial position – it is he who exerts an unfavourable

influence on your life."

Bhaaravi sighed. "Perhaps that is true. Maybe that is the reason for our

hardships and the deterioration in my literary proficiency."

"Guru's malignant influence is the reason?"

"Yes ."

"Swami , the astrologer also said that Guru graha can be appeased by

worshipping him through the prescribed rituals. Why don't you attempt to

propitiate Guru?"

"No , I will not ."

"Swami ! But, why not?"

"I will endure the just punishment meted out by my father!" Bhaaravi

declared stoically.

"Then, on your behalf, I will worship Guru graha . Will you grant me your

permission to do this?" Bhaaravi's wife asked hopefully.

"How can I object to you worshipping a god?" Bhaaravi asked.

This conversation took place on a Thursday, when the star, Anuradha, was

in the ascendant.

Bhaaravi's wife commenced her worship of Guru graha at an auspicious

time on that day. She recited the original Guru mantra one thousand and

eight times a day, repeating this procedure for nineteen consecutive days.

The days passed. Bhaaravis' wife faithfully continued her ritual worship for

the restoration of her husband's literary skills – through which he could earn

fame and wealth. On the nineteenth day, she went to the fields as usual,

with food for her husband who was tending the cattle. She found Bhaaravi

engrossed in deep thought – he was oblivious to her arrival.

"Swami," she caught his attention. "You are here in body, but far away in

mind! What is the matter?"

Bhaaravi gave a start and came back to earth. Wordlessly, he took her to the

shade of a tree and gestured to her to sit on the ground beside him. He

smiled beatifically at his wife and recited a sloka sparkling with

mesmerizing cadence and significance.

“Sahasaa vidadheeta nakriyaam avivekaha

Parama aapadaam padam

Vrnate hi vimrsyakaarinam gunalubdhaaha

Swayameva sampadaha!!"

"Swami … this sloka … " Bhaaravi's wife hesitated.

"Is my own creation!" Bhaaravi exclaimed joyously. "I do not know why –

but, since this morning, slokas have been rolling off my tongue in one

continuous flood of words!"

"Swami! My worship of Guru has been fruitful. The preceptor of the gods

has turned his munificent face towards you!" Bhaaravi's wife brimmed with

excitement. "Today is the nineteenth day of my prayers!"

"Om Gurave namaha!" Bhaaravi raised his folded hands in salutation

towards the sky. "Devi, this sloka is the inherent expression of my own life

experiences. Do you know its meaning? ‘One should not act impetuously!

Ignorance is the root of all misfortune! Wealth will come voluntarily to one

who acts after due, intelligent deliberation!'"

"Swami , your sloka encapsulates the truth of life!"

"This morning, I was inspired to write an epic titled Kiraataarjuneeyam . I

have completed two chapters in my mind and the sloka which you just

heard is from the second chapter."

"Guru has blessed us both," Bhaaravi's wife wiped away her tears of joy.

"You rightly said that we need money for our future. I will write this sloka

on a palm leaf for you to sell to some rich man." Bhaaravi declared.

"Yes, Swami !"

Nirvikalpananda looked at his entranced disciples.

"As Bhaaravi suggested, his wife sold that sloka to a wealthy businessman,

who appreciated its deep meaning and gave her a huge sum of money. Six

months passed and Bhaaravi returned home with his wife. Narayanaswami

joyously blessed Bhaaravi who had successfully endured the strange

punishment he had inflicted on him for his self-development. Bhaaravi's

mother hugged her son warmly.

"In due course, Bhaaravi completed his work on the Kiraataarjuneeyam.

Narayanaswami was exultant on reading his son's creation. He embraced his

son and poured his heart out in fulsome appreciation. He declared that he

was indeed proud to have a son like Bhaaravi. Scholars showered

encomiums on Bhaaravi and acclaimed his rise to greatness in an incredibly

short span of time. Bhaaravi insisited that he owed his knowledge, fame and

wealth to Guru graha’s favourable influence.

"So, we see how the worship of Guru graha resulted in the three-fold

benefit of knowledge, fame and wealth. Bhaaravi was enshrined as the Pole

Star in the literary firmament! His fame continues to shine even today!"

Nirvikalpananda concluded his account of Guru's glory.

The GLory of Sukra

“Himakunda mrnaalaabham Daityaanaam paramam Gurum!

Sarvasaastra pravaktaaram Bhaargavam pranamaamyaham!!"

I offer my salutations to Bhargava (Sukra) who shines like snow, like

the Kunda flower and lotus fiber, who is the great preceptor of the

demons and who is the expert orator of all the scriptures.

"S ukra is mainly the bestower of wealth, happiness, prosperity and fame.

Sukra also exerts some other influences but we need not go into those for

now. Let us hear the example of a renowned Puranic character who

regained all the wealth and prosperity he had earlier lost.

"I hope you remember the story of the Churning of the Ocean of Milk. We

heard of King Bali who collaborated with Indra and the other gods in

obtaining the amrita and was later disappointed at not receiving a share of

the nectar. After the distribution of the amrita, King Bali lost his life in the

ensuing war between the gods and the demons. Sukra brought him back to

life, using the Mrtasanjeevani and the grateful Bali organized a grand

felicitation in honour of Sukra's feat.

"Sukra, pleased with Bali's gesture, advised his disciple to perform the

Viswajit Yaaga –a sacrifice that would enable him to conquer the entire

universe. On the successful completion of the yajna, a cornucopia of gifts

emerged from the sacrificial fire: a chariot bearing golden vestments, horses

resembling Surya's handsome steeds, a lion pennant, a wondrous bow, two

quivers and a suit of armor. Agnideva, the god of fire, presented these

marvels to Bali. Prahalada, Bali's grandfather, gifted him with a garland of

lotuses which would never wither. Sukra, on his part, bestowed a pristine

white conch on his disciple. Emperor Bali, radiating happiness, offered his

salutations to his guru …"

Sukra exhorted Bali: "Bali, although it is true that we do not possess the

amrita , what does that matter? We have the priceless Mrtasanjeevani

mantra. You also have the wonderful chariot, bow, arrows and armor

required to wage war. Blow the white conch I have presented you and

declare war against the immortals!"

Bali demurred. "Gurudev , I am unsure of victory after the debacle on the

shore of the Ocean of Milk. Do you think this chariot, and the bow and

arrows, are sufficient to defeat the gods?"

"No, they are not enough!"

"Then, bestow your favourable influence on me and bless me with victory!"

"That too is not enough. I will also turn my malignant influence …"

"Gurudev ?!"

"Not on you and your asura army, my boy! Indra shall be the target of my

negative impact. My malignant influence on Mahendra will strengthen your

fighting arm a thousand times! Go to war, Bali! Victory will certainly be

yours this time!" Sukra locked eyes with Bali.

At Indra's court, the king of the devas sat in a trance of delight, savoring

Rambha and Urvasi's sensuous dance. The nymph's anklets beat a delightful

musical tattoo on the floor. Suddenly, two of Indra's spies rushed into the

court. Brhaspati noticed their pell-mell entrance and held up his hand,

signaling Rambha and Urvasi to end their dance. The melodious beat of the

anklets ceased abruptly.

"Victory to the king of the gods! Lord, Bali has surrounded Amaravati with

a huge army!"

"What?!" Indra exclaimed in utter disbelief.

"Yes, Lord!" the second spy declared in tremulous tones. "The rakshasa

army has encircled the fort. All the entrances are under enemy control!"

The blood-curdling sound of countless asura conches confirmed the spies'

ominous tidings. Indra dismissed his court and conferred anxiously with

Brhaspati.

"Gurudev , Bali, who has only recently tasted unequivocal defeat at our

hands, has again declared war. This timeframe strongly suggests that he is

in possession of some new power," Indra said.

Brhaspati gazed into the void for a moment and then turned to Indra.

"Mahendra, on Sukra's advice, Bali has performed the Viswajit Yaaga. As a

consequence, the rakshasa’s strength has increased thousandfold. Bhrgu's

descendants, who are brahmavaadins , have invested Bali with

extraordinary power. With the exception of Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva,

none can defeat him."

"Gurudev! "

"Yes, Indra. According to my calculations, the present time is not

favourable for you!"

"Then guide me as to my best course of action!"

"Indra, you are well aware that there can be only two end results in war: one

is victory and the other is a heroic death. Our present strength and weapons

overrule any chance of our victory. At the same time, the amrita will ensure

that there are no heroic deaths!" Brhaspati was in despair.

Indra heard him out helplessly. "Gurudev, your analysis of our predicament

only exacerbates my anxiety. Please tell me what to do now!"

"You are left with only one option: surrender the kingdom of Swarga to Bali

and leave!"

"Gurudev!?"

"Don't worry, Mahendra," Brhaspati consoled him. "This renunciation is not

irreversible – it is merely a temporary solution."

Indra heaved a sigh of resignation and bowed his head in defeat.

At Indra's command, the gods and apsaras left Swarga and sought asylum

in various other places. Indra, accompanied by his family, also reached a

safe haven. Sage Narada visited Kasyapa prajapati’s ashram with the sad

tidings that the gods under Indra had become refugees.

Aditi, the mother of the devas , was grief-stricken at the sorry plight of her

children. She lamented to her husband. "Swami, my children are very gentle

by nature. The evil rakshasas have robbed them of their wealth and

happiness and reduced them to a pitiful condition. Please restore Amravati

to Indra and the other devas. Punish the rakshasas and save my children!"

Kasyapa heaved a sigh of regret on hearing Aditi's grief-filled plea. He

gently wiped her tears and said, "Aditi, I do not have the strength to fulfill

your wish. No one in the three worlds possesses such power except the

Supreme Lord."

"The Supreme God, Swami ?"

"Yes, Sri Mahavishnu alone has such power!" Kasyapa smiled. "He is the

Supreme Power who can punish the asuras and rescue the suras: pray to

him, the Father of the Three Worlds!"

"Swami , will he bless me?"

"There is a special procedure prescribed for his worship. If you devoutly

conform to that format, the Supreme God will surely bless you."

Aditi attended keenly to her husband's instructions.

"The payobhakshan vrat is a vow of extraordinary significance. I will tell

you the procedure involved, the rules and regulations which govern it, and

the appropriate time and duration for its observation. I will impart to you

the special mantra of the payobhakshan vrat. Tomorrow is the day of

Padyami in the light half of the month of Phaalguna – this is an auspicious

day to commence the vow."

"It shall be as you command, Swami! I will begin my observation of the

vow tomorrow morning itself!" Aditi said excitedly.

"My good fortune be yours!" Kasyapa said. "Remember, you must

commence the vow with maha sankalp."

Heeding her husband's advice, Aditi commenced her observation of the

payobhakshan vrat the following day and adhered to it for twelve

consecutive days with the greatest devotion. On the last day, to her

delighted surprise, Lord Vishnu appeared before Aditi.

"Mother … Aditi!"

"Bhagavan, you have heard my call!" Aditi's voice trembled in ecstasy and

she shed tears of joy.

"How can I ignore the mother's call?!" Lord Vishnu replied smilingly.

"Bhagavan!” Aditi was speechless in awe.

"Mother, I know your heart's desire. I will restore the gods' glory by taking

birth as your son!"

"Oh, Bhagavan! I am fortunate indeed!" Aditi's astonished eyes brimmed

with happy tears.

"Mother," the Lord smiled tenderly. "I share your good fortune. I will bask

in the secure comfort of your womb, frolic in your lap and imbibe

nourishment from your milk."

Aditi trembled and broke out in goosebumps. "Bhagavan … Oh,

Bhagavan!”

"Serve your husband with your body, keeping my image firmly in your

mind. I will enter your womb like ghee into the sacred sacrificial fire!"

"I am blessed, Bhagavan!”

"You will bear a great son!" With this blessing, Vishnu vanished.

Aditi's vow was fulfilled. The Supreme God's boon took flesh and Aditi

joyfully carried her divine pregnancy. An extraordinary effulgence engulfed

her body and her natural beauty was amplified a thousand times.

Brahma recited a paean of praise to Lord Vishnu, the resident of the Ocean

of Milk, who now resided tranquilly in Aditi's womb, ready to assume his

incarnation. Sage Narada lost no time in carrying the tidings of Aditi's

pregnancy, and the reason behind it, to Indra and the other gods.

Brhaspati addressed Indra: "Mahendra, the deva’s hardships will soon end.

You must do your own part to regain your past glory."

"What must I do, gurudev ?"

"The main reason for the transformation of the kingdom of the gods into the

kingdom of the rakshasas is …"

Indra interrupted indignantly: "Emperor Bali!"

"Bali may be a contributing factor, but there is a deeper root cause for this

state of affairs."

"What is that, gurudev ?"

"Sukra's malignant influence on you!" Brhaspati directed a keen glance at

Indra. "Sukra's unfavourable impact holds firm sway over you. It is

essential that you gain his favour."

"Hmmm … show me the way."

"Meditate on Sukra, the sixth of the Navagrahas: worship him with staunch

devotion."

"Gurudev!” exclaimed the shocked Indra. "Sukra is the preceptor of the

rakshasas , our sworn enemies! He himself is our adversary! How can he

bless me? Impossible!"

"Indra, cast aside your doubts and pray to Sukra," Brhaspati reiterated

seriously. "Sukra will bless you!"

"Gurudev , tell me one thing: would you bless the rakshasa king, Bali, if he

attempted to propitiate you?"

"I certainly would! I have no choice: it is my ordained duty!" Brhaspati

smiled. "The Holy Trinity has invested us, the Navagrahas, with the

authority to bestow on each and every individual in the universe good and

bad influences, mercy and wrath. You can obtain the blessing of any god

only when you enjoy the Navagrahas’ favourable influence. Have faith in

me Indra – worship Sukra graha, the giver of wealth."

‘As you command, gurudev," Indra agreed obediently.

It was the month of Sraavan, in Abhijit Lagna, with the Sravanaa star in the

ascendant. In the second half of that Dwaadasi day, when Surya blazed in

the middle sky, and Chandra and the other grahas and stars stood in

auspicious positions, Aditi gave birth to a son.

The infant came forth with four hands – holding the conch, the discus, the

mace and the lotus. He was resplendent in tawny attire and wore crocodile-

shaped earrings. The crown on his head, the divine Kaustubha gem on his

neck, and the ornaments which adorned his body, wrapped him in an

extraordinary glow.

Aditi gazed in awe at her little baby and wondered how this miraculous

infant with four hands, divine weapons and ornaments could have remained

cocooned in her small womb. The joyous Kasyapa and Aditi sang a paean

of praise to Lord Vishnu who had deigned to be incarnated as their son. In

that instant, the divine form of Lord Vishnu gave place to the features of a

normal child. In another instant, the child metamorphosed into a dwarf at

the age appropriate to undergo the upanayana ceremony. Recovering from

her shock, Aditi gathered her newborn dwarf child to her breast and suckled

him tenderly.

Nirvikalpananda looked around smilingly at his disciples. "You must have

realized that this is the story of the Vamana avatar . Lord Vishnu assumed

the Vamana avatar in order to retrieve Indra's domain from King Bali.

"We are all familiar with the story of Vamana attending King Bali's yajna

and asking for three paces of land, Sukra attempting in vain to stop Bali

from consenting to this, Sukra assuming a miniature form in order to block

the spout of Bali's kamandalam, and Vamana piercing the spout with a twig

– resulting in Sukra losing an eye. Finally, Lord Vishnu obtained the

kingdom of Swarga as a donation from Bali and bestowed it on Indra."

Nirvikalpananda concluded his gist of the Vamana avatar .

"Master," asked Chidananda, "what about Sukra ?"

"I am coming to that, Chidananda," Nirvikalpananda said with a smile. "In

due course, Indra completed his worship of Sukra. The pleased asura-guru

turned his benign face towards Indra."

"Master, I have a doubt ," Vimalananda intervened respectfully. "Sukra's

malignant influence on Indra , Indra's propitiation of Sukra , Sukra blessing

Indra – this chain of events is unfamiliar. Did these events really take

place?"

Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently and said: "Pay attention to my

explanation. One method of analysis is to gauge an event on the basis of its

cause. Another method is to gauge the cause, in retrospect, based on an

event. Both methods are equally logical and applicable. Let me give you an

example: suppose you sleep through an entire day and wake up after sunset.

You would not question whether the sun rose that morning while you slept.

Although you did not witness the sunrise, you are certain that the sun did

rise. That is the immutable truth!

"Similarly, when an individual's horoscope is subjected to astrological

analysis, it is possible to predict in advance that a particular graha is going

to have an adverse impact on that individual. Using the retrospective

method, if the horoscope is examined after the individual has endured

hardship, it is possible to pinpoint the particular graha responsible for his

suffering. We have used the second method to conclude that it was the

malignant influence of Sukra, the giver of wealth and glory, which was

responsible for Indra's misfortune.

‘Another noteworthy point is that Sukra is the preceptor of the asuras: this

makes him a natural enemy of the devas. It is perfectly reasonable to

conclude that he exerted an unfavourable influence on Indra, the king of the

devas. Do not forget that the Navagrahas are divine forms. As such, all

gods, demons and humans are equally susceptible to their mercy and wrath.

That is the greatness of the Navagrahas . Therefore, it is not surprising that

Sukra adversely impacted Indra, in order to facilitate his disciple, Bali's,

victory. Likewise, he later withdrew his malignant influence by accepting

Indra's worship and deigned to show his magnanimous face to the king of

the gods."

"Master, one more doubt …" said Shivananda.

Nirvikalpananda inclined his head in patient attention.

"As a consequence of Sukra's magnanimity towards Indra, Bali lost the

kingdom of Swarga. Does this not reflect badly on Sukra's position as the

preceptor of the asuras ?"

"No! In practical terms, Sukra attempted to be fair towards both Bali and

Indra. As the asura- guru, he attempted to dissuade Bali from making his

donation to Vamana. He blocked Bali's kamandalam and lost an eye for his

trouble. This makes it evident that he remained true to his obligations as the

preceptor of the rakshasas . At the same time, he blessed Indra in his role as

a Grahadeva ."

"Master, your analysis is founded on sound logic, as always!" Sadananda

exclaimed in admiration.

"When things are not clear, they should be subjected to logical analysis. I

will give you another example to enhance your understanding. A couple

gets married and in due course, they have a son. It is not decorous to openly

enquire whether their marriage has been consummated. Instead, we accept

that their son is the visible proof of that consummation. Similarly, we

conclude that Sukra's malignant influence was responsible for Indra's loss

of wealth and fame. This is a perfectly logical conclusion. Now, let us move

on to the glory of Sani graha !"

The GLory of Sanaischara

“Neelaanjana Samaabhaasam Raviputram Yamaagrajam!

Chaaya Maartaanda Sambhutam tam Namaami Sanaischaram!!"

I offer my salutations to Sanaischara who shines like dark blue

collyrium, who is the son of Ravi (Surya), who has Yama as his elder

brother and who is born of Chaaya and Maartaanda (Surya).

"T he mere mention of the name, 'Sani,' is enough to evoke instant

devotion laced with dread! Sanaischara is unique among the planets, in that

his malignant influence causes one-fold harm, while his benign influence is

doubly beneficial. His anger rouses our fear while his mercy gives us

courage and confidence. In fact, it is Sani who bestows upon living beings

the one thing they crave above all others: the gift of longevity. As the only

graha to grant longevity, Sanaischara is known as the Ayurdaaya Kaaraka –

the bestower of long life.

"An individual who rouses Sani's wrath must navigate his life through a

jungle of thorns. On the other hand, if Sani is pleased with him, his life

becomes a pleasant journey through fragrant meadows. There is an episode

in King Dasaratha's life which categorically proves this. I will now narrate

this particular story to you. This was the period when King Dasaratha ruled

Bharat, with Ayodhya as his capital. One morning, the court astrologers

who routinely perused the almanac, and interpreted the movement of the

Navagrahas , announced the imminent approach of a great threat.

"The astrologers foretold that Sani was poised to enter the orbit of the star,

Rohini. This heralded the coming of a terrible drought which would persist

for twelve long years. They warned that there would be a dire scarcity of

food and water during this period – a dreadful famine would wipe out all

life on earth.

"The anxious Dasaratha consulted his mentor, Sage Vasishta, and begged

him to suggest a way to save the country from the ravages of the predicted

drought …

Sage Vasishta said, "Oh King! It would be meaningless to offer relief to

your subjects after the onset of the drought! Your bounden duty as a king is

to prevent the very occurrence of the impending calamity."

"Prevent the occurrence of famine?" King Dasaratha asked. "Acharya, do

you suggest that we conduct the Maha Varuna yajna?”

"The graha who is poised to enter Rohini's orbit is no ordinary planet – it is

Sanaischara himself! Mere sacrifices and rituals cannot divert him from his

course!"

"Then, kindly advise me as to the appropriate course of action." "There is

only one thing to be done," Vasishta said. "You must stop Sani graha from

entering Rohini's orbit!"

Dasaratha, astonished at Vasishta's bold suggestion, said: "This is a very

complicated issue. Let us discuss it with our ministers, gurudev.” Dasaratha

summoned his eight ministers – Drshti, Jayantha, Vijaya, Siddhartha,

Arthasaadhaka, Asoka, Mantrapaala and Sumantra and acquainted them

with the state of affairs and Vasishta's counsel.

"Stop Sani from entering Rohini's orbit … how is that possible? We need

Sage Vasishta's explicit advice," Minister Sumantra said.

"Let us attempt to propitiate Sani with homams and rituals," suggested

Minister Mantrapaala.

The other ministers nodded in agreement.

"According to the calculations of our court astrologers, Sani may have

already commenced his journey towards Rohini's orbit. If he is to be

stopped, immediate action is called for. There is no time to be lost with

rituals: and let me repeat my warning – such rituals would serve no

purpose. We must not forget that Sanaischara is a fierce graha !" Sage

Vasishta cautioned.

The ministers exchanged looks of consternation. Dasaratha turned to Sage

Vasishta with a worried frown.

"King Dasaratha, there is no time for further consultation and discussion.

Sani must be stopped in mid-course. That is the only solution!" Sage

Vasishta said urgently.

"Gurudev , you are the only person capable of achieving this great feat,"

Dasaratha appealed to his mentor.

Sage Vasishta smiled. "Have you forgotten the past, Dasaratha? At Indra's

request, you rode to heaven on your chariot and valiantly engaged the

demon, Sambarasura. Sambara assumed ten forms and showered arrows on

you from ten different directions. Unfazed, you drove your chariot at

lightning speed to simultaneously cover all the ten points of attack, and

killed the marauding demon. Awed by your valour and your inimitable

charioteering skills, Lord Brahma appeared before you. In

acknowledgement of your proficiency, he bestowed on you the name

'Dasaratha,' instead of your original name 'Nemi.' Now, board your trusty

chariot and rush to the vast reaches of the stars and planets!"

At this exhortation, Dasaratha looked intently at his mentor and said,

"Reaching the plane of stars and planets is easy enough, gurudev …

stopping Sani is another matter altogether!"

Sage Vasishta held the king's gaze. "Meet Sanaischara face to face and

appeal to him for mercy. If he refuses to oblige, attack him!"

"Hear, hear!" the eight ministers chorused in approval.

Dasaratha, attired in cloth of gold, and adorned with golden ornaments,

wore his jewel-studded crown and mounted his aureate chariot, drawn by

magnificent white horses. He signaled to his steeds and his trusty chariot

dashed forward into the vastness of space.

Rivalling the speed of the wind, Dasaratha covered one and a quarter lakh

yojanas. On reaching Rohini's orbit, Dasaratha halted his chariot in Sani

graha’s anticipated path and waited expectantly.

Seated in his iron chariot, drawn by ten multi-hued horses, Sani sped

towards Rohini. Suddenly confronted by Dasaratha's golden equipage, Sani

braked to an abrupt halt. Frowning darkly at the king, he bellowed:

"Dasaratha, do you realize that you are obstructing my passage? Reverse

your chariot and move aside!"

"Salutations to the holy feet of Sanaischara!" Dasaratha said, respectfully

raising his folded hands to his forehead.

"First move your chariot out of my way – we will then see about your

salutations!" Sani thundered.

"Bhagavan, I have deliberately halted my chariot in your path: not to make

way for you but to stop you in your tracks!" Dasaratha said, a calm smile on

his face.

The furious Sani roared, "Dasaratha, if my passage is impeded, chaos will

result!"

"And, if I do not block your present course, you will enter Rohini's orbit.

This will cause a dreadful, twelve-year long famine on earth. I beseech you

to reverse your course and retreat!" Dasaratha pleaded.

Sani's sardonic laughter resonated through the vast reaches of space like a

thunder-clap.

"Retreat!? Sanaischara never retreats! Be gone!"

Sani urged his horses onwards. Without a moment's hesitation, Dasaratha

too drove his chariot forward. Stopping a short distance away, Dasaratha

folded his hands in supplication.

"Bhagavan, your intended path will unleash a wave of destruction on life on

earth. On behalf of all humankind, I beseech you: do not enter Rohini's

orbit."

"Impossible!" Sani roared furiously. "I, the son of Surya Bhagavan, will not

yield to entreaties or prayers!"

"Then, I have only one option: I have to stop you with my valour!"

‘A mere mortal attempting to stop Sanaischara!" Sani's mocking laughter

echoed across the skies. "Go ahead and try!"

Dasaratha smiled and bowed his head. "How can I turn down the wish of

one of the Navagrahas ?"

The king took up his bow in his left hand, tautened the bowstring and

released it. The mighty echo of the 'tamkaar reverberated through all the

eight directions. Sani's horses, spooked by the thunderous twang of the

bowstring, neighed in terror and backed nervously. The sound echoed in

Sani's ears.

Dasaratha took an arrow from his quiver and notched it to his bow. He

locked eyes with Sani and declared in a loud, clear voice: "Sanaischara, in

order to discharge my obligation as a king, and protect my subjects on

earth, I must attack you with my arrow of destruction. Save yourself – if

you can!"

In one fluid movement, Dasaratha raised and drew his bow, taking aim prior

to releasing the arrow.

Sani, astounded by the king's temerity and courage, shouted: "Dasaratha!

Stop!"

Dasaratha froze in his aggressive stance.

"Lower your bow, Dasaratha," Sani said gently.

Dasaratha looked at him in surprised interrogation.

A smile lit up Sanaischara's face. "Put down your bow and quiver and come

here!" he commanded.

Reassured by Sani's serene demeanor, Dasaratha placed his bow on his seat,

dismounted from the chariot and approached Sani on foot.

Sani looked intently at the king. "Dasaratha, I am the son of Bhagavan

Surya and you are a descendent of Surya's lineage! It was to test your

personal courage and your commitment to your role as the protector of your

subjects that I refused to heed your prayer."

"Bhagavan …"

"I am pleased with your valour. Ask for any boon you desire."

Dasaratha humbly extended his cupped palms towards Sani. "Bhagavan, I

beg you to grant me a boon which will ensure the wellbeing of the three

worlds. From today, do not enter Rohini's orbit. As long as this universe

exists, you must not cross Rohini's circuit. This is the boon I ask from you."

"Your concern for the welfare of the three worlds is commendable! I

willingly grant your boon. I give you my word that I will never cross

Rohini's trajectory!"

"I am blessed, Bhagavan! Indeed, I am blessed!" Dasaratha exclaimed with

respectfully folded hands. His grateful eyes transfixed on Sani's benign

face, Dasaratha broke into an extemporaneous hymn in praise of the graha .

Sanaischara listened benignly to the hymn and raised his hand in

benediction. "Dasaratha, I bestow the title Dasa vidha stotra to the hymn

you have composed. All those who recite this hymn with true devotion will

receive my blessings and will be immune to the adverse effects of the

grahas!"

Dasaratha gazed at Sani through tears of joy. Sani smiled at the king and

reversed his chariot. Dasaratha stood as still as a statue, his eyes following

the retreating Sani until the iron chariot was lost in the mist of the distance

…

Nirvikalpananda paused and looked questioningly at his disciples.

"Master, we expected you to narrate the experience of an individual who

bore the brunt of Sani's wrath and secured his blessings by worshipping him

," Sadananda said.

Nirvikalpananda chuckled. "We have already heard the stories of

individuals who suffered the adverse impact of the grahas and gained their

favour by duly performing the ordained rituals. Now, through Dasaratha's

tale, we have learnt that it is possible to pre-empt the Navagrahas’

unfavourable influence by paying heed to astrological predictions and

worshipping the planets. I chose this episode in King Dasaratha's life to

impress this on you."

"Yes, master," said Vimalananda. "It is now clear to us that man can save

himself from the hardships which result from the grahas’ malignant effect."

"Very well, let us proceed to the story of the eight graha, Rahu,"

Nirvikalpananda said.

The Glory of Rahu

“Ardhakaayam Mahaaveeram Chandra Aditya Vimardanam!

Simhikaagarbha sambhootam tam Raahum Pranamaamyaham!!”

I offer my salutations to Rahu who is half-bodied, who is distinguished

and valiant, who is the oppressor of Chandra and Aditya and who is

born from Simhika's womb

"T he scriptures say that the malignant influence of Rahu, the I eight

graha, results in eight kinds of hardship. Under Rahu's adverse impact, an

individual is exiled from his native land and compelled to live in the burial

ground."

"Master, the term, 'eight hardships,' is commonly used. What exactly are

these eight hardships?" Vimalananda asked curiously.

"The scriptures categorically list the eight hardships, which are more

accurately eight curses on mankind. The eight hardships a man should

never have to face are – living in exile, separation from his wife, visits from

relatives when in poverty, the eating of left-overs, the merger of his rivals,

dependence on others for food, humiliation and destitution."

"Master, it is widely known that King Harischandra suffered the eight

hardships, went into exile and lived in a burial ground. Is it right to

conclude that Rahu's malignant influence was the reason for his sorry

plight?" asked Sadananda.

"Undoubtedly! Astrologers are of the same view," Nirvikalpananda replied.

"In fact, I intend to narrate Harischandra's story as an example of the

consequence of Rahu's influence.

"When under the unfavourable influence of the grahas, a man's thoughts

and deeds will gravitate towards the wrong path. During this adverse

period, the concerned individual will blindly ignore the cautionary signs of

bad omens and planetary alignments. According to the Markandeya

Purana, Harischandra set out on a hunting expedition, although his

kingdom was well provided and secure, and did not face any threat from

wild animals.

"It is essential that a king select an auspicious day and time to wage war, or

to go on a hunting expedition. This is the traditionally accepted practice.

However, King Harischandra's overweening self-confidence and egoism

made him deliberately ignore this tradition and surrender to his weakness

for hunting. In fact, it was not merely a weakness … it was an addiction!"

"Master," asked Sadananda doubtfully, "can hunting become an addiction?"

"Certainly! Hunting is an addiction. Our wise forefathers included hunting

in the list of Sapta Vyasanas – the Seven Addictions.

"Harischandra's addiction to hunting made him a victim of Sage

Viswamitra's wrath and enmity. As a consequence of his financial

indebtedness to Viswamitra, the pitiable Harischandra was forced to

surrender his entire empire to the sage – except for the substantial lands

previously donated to the Brahmins and temples. He was compelled to

leave his native land and go into exile. He had to sell his wife and son. As if

all this hardship was not enough, he had to sell himself to the keeper of a

crematorium and undertake the task of burning corpses.

"We are all acquainted with King Harischandra's various hardships and his

miserable life burning corpses as a crematorium keeper. I will not elaborate

on these familiar episodes. Suffice it to understand that it was Rahu's

malignant influence which was responsible for Harischandra's suffering."

"Master, Harischandra's hardships also resulted in his earning the

meritorious title, 'Satya Harischandra'," remarked Chidananda.

"In addition to that unique recognition, he was blessed by Brahma, Indra

and the other gods," added Shivananda.

"Yes, King Harischandra was fortunate to secure the blessings of the gods,

who acclaimed his integrity. He earned the title, Satya Harischandra and his

name became a synonym for truth. It is fair to assume that Rahu's

favourable influence effected these fortunate developments in his life,"

Nirvikalpananda said.

"In short, we can conclude that Satya Harischandra's life exemplifies both

Rahu's positive and negative impact," remarked Vimalananda.

Nirvikalpananda considered at his disciples. "You may wonder why King

Harischandra did not attempt to ward off his sufferings by propitiating Rahu

and securing his grace. Right?"

"Yes, master," agreed Vimalananda. "And one more doubt: we may concede

that King Harischandra himself may not have been aware of Rahu's

malignant influence. However, the wise Sage Vasishta was his preceptor.

Surely the sage could have advised Harischandra to worship Rahu and gain

his mercy. Why did this not happen?"

"Excellent question!" Nirvikalpananda said approvingly. "Harischandra was

born into the great lineage of Ikshvaaku – the solar dynasty, descended from

Bhagavan Surya himself. It so happened that King Harischandra

unilaterally took the decision to donate his kingdom to Sage Viswamitra. A

king must keep his given word: in order to uphold this principle,

Harischandra had to surrender his empire to Sage Viswamitra. Again, after

forfeiting everything and becoming a destitute, he could not shirk his moral

responsibility to clear his debt: this entailed his miserable stint in the

crematorium. Sage Vasishta was aware of the moral principles involved.

Therefore, he could not in good conscience advise the king to evade his

hardships by propitiating Rahu.

‘Again, Sage Vasishta was a renowned seer who could envision the past,

present and future. He was confident that Harischandra would keep his

word, uphold his integrity and remain a synonym for truth through all

eternity as Satya Harischandra."

"Master, your explanation is enlightening!" Chidananda exclaimed.

"Yes, master," agreed Vimalananda. "We are now able to grasp the moral

complexities involved."

"Good," the master said. "You have heard of Rahu's glory. Let us now take

up Ketu's fame."

"Yes, master," said Shivananda enthusiastically, "we are sure to enjoy it!"

The Glory of Ketu

“Palaasapushpa sankaasam taarakaagraha mastakam!

Roudram roudraatmakam ghoram tam Ketum pranamaamyaham!!"

I offer my salutations to Ketu who shines like the palaasa flower, who

is foremost among the stars and planets, who is Roudra, whose form is

fierce and horrible.

S adananda asked: "Master, what does 'Palaasapushpa' mean?"

"It is Butea frondosa in botanical terms, and is commonly known as the

Flame of the Forest.. Ketu's complexion is as red as the moduga blossom.

As in the case of the other grahas, Ketu, the ninth of the Navagrahas, has

his own unique characteristics and impact. The most extraordinary of his

influences is the one which grants moksha – liberation from the cycle of

birth and death. Ketu's favourable influence is essential in order to attain

moksha . Let us now hear the story of a Puranic character who was unable

to attain liberation, no matter how hard he tried, as he lacked Ketu's grace."

Nirvikalpananda smiled benignly at his four disciples.

Vimalananda, Chidananda, Sadananda and Shivananda looked up at him in

eager anticipation.

"We just heard the story of Harischandra. Do any of you know who his

father was? … He was Satyavrata Maharaj, popularly known as Trisanku."

"Master, how did Satyavrata Maharaj obtain the name, Trisanku?" asked

Vimalananda curiously.

"Satyavrata became Trisanku as the result of Sage Vasishta's curse …

Trisanku means one who has committed three sins."

"What were those three sins, master?" Sadananda asked.

"When Satyavrata was young, he abducted a bride from the marriage

platform when she was about to be wed. That was one sin.

"Furious at his son's misdeed, his father, King Trayyaaruna, punished

Satyavrata by expelling him from the kingdom. Earning his father's wrath

was Satyavrata's second sin.

"Satyavrata then sank into a mean, lowly life, indiscriminately killing and

eating the forest animals. One day, he killed Nandini, Sage Vasishta's holy

cow, and ate its meat. Consuming beef was his third sin. Sage Vasishta

cursed him to be called Trisanku henceforth, as he had committed three

sankas, or sins. From that day, Satyavrata was known as Trisanku,"

Nirvikalpananda elaborated. "King Trayyaaruna was soon filled with

remorse for sending his only son to the forest in exile. He recalled Trisanku

to the palace and anointed him as the king. After ruling the kingdom for

many long years, Trisanku reached a state of detachment towards life. He

yearned to obtain moksha and enter Swarga – but without dying or giving

up his gross body. He expressed his unusual wish to Sage Vasishta …"

Nirvikalpananda was once again in the thick of his narrative.

"Master, I am tired of this existence. I can no longer summon up the energy,

or the interest, to govern the kingdom. I am repelled by life and its routine

compulsions."

Sage Vasishta smiled serenely. "Trisanku, these feelings are but natural at

your advanced age. "Harischandra has reached adulthood. Anoint him as

the king and lead a life of renunciation."

"I am not inclined to an ascetic's life, although I yearn to attain liberation.

Master, I wish to enter Swarga with this corporeal body."

A smile flitted across the sage's countenance. "Trisanku, gaining access to

Swarga is not under your control. Unless a person dies, it cannot be

determined whether he deserves to go to Swarga – heaven, or Naraka –

hell. Death is not in your hands. If an individual commits suicide in his

desire to reach Swarga, he will undoubtedly suffer the torments of Naraka."

"Master, let me be more explicit: I wish to enter Swarga in my gross body –

this obviously precludes my death."

Sage Vasishta's face reflected his shock. Had Trisanku lost his mind?! He

said, "Trisanku, let me reveal an immutable truth: leaving aside your desire

to enter Swarga with your corporeal body, even if you die a natural death, it

is not possible for you to obtain moksha and enter Swarga ."

"Master!"

"I'm afraid this is true. The reason for this is that you do not enjoy the

favour of Ketu graha , who is the giver of moksha . It is impossible to

obtain liberation without Ketu's benignant influence."

King Trisanku locked eyes with Sage Vasishta. "Master, let us ignore the

vagaries of fortune and the influence of the grahas . I request you to

perform a prodigious yajna with the objective of sending me to Swarga in

this gross body. I know this to be within your capabilities. After all, you

performed a yajna to enable my ancestor, King Vaivasvata, to obtain

progeny."

"Trisanku, that was completely different! You desire the impossible – it

cannot be achieved. In fact, your wish is merely an absurd desire!" Sage

Vasishta declared frankly.

Trisanku persisted: "In that case, I ask you to convert my absurd desire into

a deserving wish and ensure its fulfillment. Perform the required yajna

which will liberate me and gain me entry to Swarga in this body."

"Oh king, is this a command?"

"I have requested and pleaded to no avail. Now, I command you!"

"I refuse to obey your command!"

"Master!"

"Trisanku, I repeat that you do not enjoy Ketu graha’s favour. In these

circumstances, the yajna will fail – it will not be fruitful. I refuse to perform

a yajna which has no chance of success."

Turning his back on the dumbstruck Trisanku, Sage Vasishta stalked out of

the room.

King Trisanku made his way to Viswamitra's hermitage and respectfully

touched the sage's feet.

"May your wishes be fulfilled," blessed Viswamitra.

"Maharshi, your benediction is indeed apt! I come to you burning under the

humiliation of Sage Vasishta's rebuff."

"Indeed? What transpired, Satyavrata?" Viswamitra's tone was conciliatory.

"I will not demean you by addressing you by the name conferred on you

through Vasishta's curse."

"I am blessed, Maharshi ! I am repulsed by my kingly life and duties. I

begged Sage Vasishta to conduct an appropriate yajna in order for me to

obtain moksha and enter Swarga in this corporeal body. However, he rudely

declined my request." Trisanku's voice throbbed with anger.

"What was the reason for his refusal?"

"He holds that Ketu, the bestower of moksha , exerts a negative impact on

my fortune," Trisanku said with a mocking smile.

Viswamitra roared with laughter. "Satyavrata, you must not task an

individual beyond his capabilities! Vasishta is a nobody! His powers are

negligible! All he has is the empty title of Brahmarshi. Just as a person who

is incapable of kindling the sacrificial fire resorts to blaming the twigs,

Vasishta blames Ketu for his own inadequacy."

"Master, I beg you to fulfill my desire," Trisanku pleaded.

"Satyavrata, only a Maharshi who can hold his own with the Creator with

respect to his task of creation can send you to Swarga in your gross body. I

will prove to Vasishta that I can fulfil your wish," Viswamitra declared

proudly.

"Master, you have given me your word. I no longer doubt that I will enter

Swarga!" Trisanku was overjoyed.

"Make all arrangements for the yajna . First extend your invitation to the

sages who are to be the brahmavaadins . I myself will officiate as the chief

priest and perform the yajna,” Viswamitra announced.

Trisanku prostrated himself gratefully before Viswamitra.

"May you enter Swarga in your corporeal body," said the sage in

benediction.

As he proceeded to invite the various sages required for the conduct of the

yajna , Trisanku met Vasishta's sons.

"Your father has declined my request to perform the yajna. I have now

secured Sage Viswamitra's consent to conduct the sacrifice. Kindly

participate in the yajna and give me your blessings."

Vasishta's son, Sakti, replied: "We are prohibited from attending a ceremony

proscribed by our father. Furthermore, we cannot participate in a yajna

conducted by a Kshatriya."

Trisanku returned to his palace burning with humiliation. The ministers he

had dispatched with invitations to other Brahmins also reported to him in

despair: "Lord, all the Brahmins have declined your invitation. They insist

that it is a sin to participate in a Kshatriya yajna conducted by Viswamitra."

Trisanku hurried to acquaint Viswamitra with these developments.

The outraged sage declared: "It is the misfortune of those mean Brahmins

that they fail to recognize my power as a Brahmarshi. Satyavrata, I give

you my word – I will single-handedly perform the yajna and send you to

Swarga . As long as you are fortified by Viswamitra's blessings, you will be

immune to adverse influence: even that of the grahas ! Go and proceed with

your arrangements."

Cursing all those who had spurned Trisanku's invitation to the yajna,

Viswamitra exhorted the king to commence the sacrifice on a grandiose

scale. Viswamitra recited the appropriate mantras and urged the various

gods to accept the offerings of the homas . However, the gods failed to

grace the sacrifice – they chose to reject a yajna which was conducted on

the basis of a patently absurd wish.

"Master, what do we do now?" King Trisanku lamented. "The yajna will not

be complete if the gods turn down our offerings."

Viswamitra rose in a towering rage against the recalcitrant gods. He evoked

an instrument of sacrifice called the sruvam and declared, "Satyavrata, do

not worry. I will conduct this yajna single-handedly, in spite of the absence

of the sixteen prescribed priests – Brahma, Udgaata, Brahmanaacchamsi,

Hota, Adhvarya, Prastota, Pratiprasthata, Pota, Maitraavaruna, Pratihaarta,

Acchaavaaka, Veshta, Agnidhra, Subrahmanya, Gaavastuta and Unneta. I

will ensure the success of the yajna even in the face of the gods' rejection of

its offerings. I will make it fruitful!"

"Your blessings, Maharshi ," Trisanku saluted Viswamitra with folded

hands.

"I will send you to Swarga in your corporeal body by sacrificing the

formidable powers which I have accumulated through my long years of

intense, rigorous penance. Salute Yajneswara and me and stand up,"

Viswamitra commanded.

Trisanku dutifully obeyed the sage.

Viswamitra closed his eyes in deep meditation. After a while, he opened his

eyes slowly and gazed intently at Trisanku. "Your entrance to Swarga is

beyond the reach of normal human beings. My phenomenal power will be

the invisible vimana which transports you to heaven. Om! Go, Satyavrata,

go to Swarga! Reach heaven with your corporeal body!"

At Viswamitra's command, Trisanku's body rose into the air and sped

towards heaven. Trisanku looked down at the receding sage and folded his

hands in obeisance. Viswamitra followed the king's trajectory with a

complacent smile and raised his own hand in benediction.

Trisanku hurtled towards Swarga with the speed of light, crossing the orbs

of all the grahas, including the great Surya. Indra's spies rushed to him with

news of Trisanku's imminent arrival. Indra hurried to Swarga’s entrance,

accompanied by the startled gods, nymphs, siddhas, gandharvas and

saadhyas .

Trisanku reached the gateway to heaven. Assuming the gathered assembly

to be a warm reception committee, he folded his hands in salutation to Indra

and said: "Mahendra, I am King Trisanku. Sage Viswamitra has sent me to

Swarga in my gross body by conducting a yajna and using his formidable

powers. Please accept me as a denizen of Swarga.’’

"Yes, I am familiar with your unnatural desire, and the yajna conducted by

Viswamitra in his hedonistic pride. You are an accursed person.

Furthermore, your body is constituted of the five elements of earth, water,

fire, wind and ether. Individuals inhabiting such corporeal bodies are

forbidden from entering Swarga. Go! Turn back and return to earth!" Indra

proclaimed and gestured angrily with his hand.

Immediately, Trisanku turned upside down and dropped like a stone

towards the earth. As he reached the midpoint between heaven and earth,

overwhelmed with panic, Trisanku called out to Viswamitra: "Maharshi

Viswamitra! Save me! Please save me!"

Furious with Indra for foiling his objective, Viswamitra was determined to

prevent Trisanku's return to earth.

"Satyavrata!" Viswamitra commanded. "Stop! Stop right there!"

Viswamitra's powerful command immobilized Trisanku and the king froze

in his upside-down position in the sky.

"Oh king," declared Viswamitra, "my promise to send you to Swarga with

your gross body will not be in vain. I shall create another Swarga in the

space where you remain suspended. This will be your own heavenly

domain and will be called Trisanku's Swarga . You will be the sovereign of

this Swarga ."

Nirvikalpananda paused and considered his disciples. "As he promised,

Viswamitra created a second heaven, particularly for Trisanku, midway

between the earth and the sky. The sage demonstrated that he was powerful

enough to compete with the Creator in the task of creation. However,

Trisanku's Swarga is merely a limbo which hangs in the sky and belongs

nowhere. This is why a useless person is derogatively said to inhabit

Trisanku's Swarga . Do you understand that Ketu's malignant influence was

the reason behind the creation of Trisanku's Swarga ?"

"That is clear enough, master," remarked Vimalananda with a rueful smile.

"Harischandra endured untold suffering due to Rahu's adverse impact and

his father, Trisanku, was subjected to hardship on account of Ketu's

malignant influence."

"I repeat: in these stories, we have analyzed the hardships experienced by

an individual and retrospectively deduced the particular graha responsible

for his suffering," Nirvikalpananda explained.

"Master, hearing your detailed, captivating exposition of the Navagraha

Purana has been a sheer delight!" Sadananda exclaimed.

"You have given us a clear understanding of the Navagrahas and their

glory," added Shivananda.

"Hearing the Navagraha Purana has stimulated my interest in visiting the

Navagraha temples in our country," said Chidananda excitedly.

"Master," Vimalanada was enthusiastic. "Shall we go on a pilgrimage to all

the Navagraha shrines?"

"Certainly, Vimalananda," the master said with an indulgent smile. "Now,

let us listen to the assured benefits to be gained by reading the Navagraha

Purana ."

Nirvikalpananda paused and his voice assumed a solemn, prayerful timbre:

"The Navagrahas will shower their blessings in abundance on all who read

or listen to the Navagraha Purana !"

The guru bowed his head in reverence and intoned:

“Om! Aadityaadi Navagraha arpanamastu!"

“Om! Offered to the Nine Planets, of whom Surya is the

fountainhead!"

Glossary

Aarya A person of noble birth

Acharya Spiritual teacher

Adharma That which is not in accordance with the teachings of

Dharma

Agnikaarya A Vedic ritual dedicated to Agni, the god of fire

Akshata Rice grains smeared with turmeric

Akshaya-paatra An inexhaustible vessel

Amla Gooseberry

Amrita Nectar Amsa Portion

Ananda Taandav Lord Shiva's Dance of Bliss

Anga Category

Anthariksha Space

Apsara Celestial nymph

Aradhana An act of adoration

Arghya Ritual ablution

Artha gourava Literary Content

Ashram Hermitage

Ashtami Eighth day in a lunar fortnight

Ashtadikpalakas Guardians of the eight cardinal directions

Avabrdha snanam Ritual bath which concludes a yajna

Avatar Incarnation

Avyaya Imperishable

Balabrahmacharis Young ascetics under lifelong vows of celibacy

Bimba The fruit of the Momordica Monadelpha

Bhagavan Divine person

Bhaksya Fried food

Bhojya Delicacies

Bhoochara Terrestrial life

Bhutas Elements

Brahmanda

Roopa Universal Form

Brahmavaadins Exponents of the Vedas

Chaaranaas Demigods

Chakra Wheel

Chaturmukha Four-faced god: Brahma

Chintamani Wish fulfilling jewel

Choshya Beverages

Daanavas Demons: the offspring of Danu, one of the Kasyapa's

wives.

Damaruka Small, two-headed drum

Daitya Demons: the offspring of Diti, one of Kasyapa's wives.

Darbha Sacrificial Grass: Desmotachya bipinnata, used in

Hindu rites.

Darshan Auspicious sight

Deva-guru Preceptor of the gods

Devas Demigods

Devi A married woman or a female deity

Dharma The eternal law of the cosmos according to Hinduism

Dikpaalaka Guardian of a cardinal direction

Diya A small clay lamp

Dwaadasa

Aadityas Twelve names of the sun

Dwapara Yuga The third of the four ages described in Hindu scriptures

Gandharvas Celestial musicians

Garudas Celestial beings belonging to the clan of eagles

Gothra Family name

Guru Teacher

Guru dakshina Teacher's fee

Gurukul

Paathasaala Residential school with pupils living with the guru

Gurupatni The guru's wife

Havis An oblation made to a god through the sacrificial fire

Homam Vedic sacrificial ritual with Agni (the god of fire) as

intermediary

Jaatakarma Religious rite celebrating the birth of a child

Jalacharas Aquatic life

Japa Prayer

Jnana Enlightenment

Kaalakeya Demons: the offspring of Kaala, one of Kasyapa's

wives

Krttika One of the twenty-seven stars in Hindu astrology

Kalasa Water-pot used for religious purposes

Kalpa A time period (a day according to Brahma's divine

count)

Kalpavrksha A wish-fulfilling divine tree

Kamandalam A water-pot used by ascetics

Kaamadhenu Divine cow of plenty

Karma Action

Khechara Avian life

Kimpurushas Divine beings with equine faces and human bodies

Kinnaras Divine beings with equine faces and human bodies

Kshatriya Member of the warrior caste

Ksheeraannam Rice and milk pudding

Kumara Son

Lehya Medicinal food

Lipi Writing

Loka Plane of existence

Maanasaputra Mind-born son

Maanavas The human race: descendants of Manu

Maharshi Great sage

Maha sankalp Great will: preparatory mind-set for penance or puja

Mahayogi Great ascetic

Mahathi Sage Narada's lute

Makara kundala Crocodile-shaped ear ornament

Mangala Auspicious

Manmatha The god of love

Mantra Sanskrit religious incantation

Matsyakaantha Mermaid

Moolarupa Original Godhead

Namo Namah! Salutation meaning 'I bow.'

Navagrahas The nine planets

Navarathnas The nine precious gems

Nirhetuka Krpa Unconditional grace – a divine quality

Omkar The primordial sound of 'Om'

Paanigraham Marriage

Parabrahma The Supreme Lord

Paramathma The Supreme Soul

Pithamaha Paternal grandfather / Chaturmukha Brahma

Prajapati Lord of the people

Pralaya Annihilation

Pramodoota Fourth of the sixty years of the Hindu calendar

Pranam Obeisance

Pranava mantra The primordial sound, 'Om.'

Prasnopanishat Question-and-answer method of oral instruction in the

Upanishads

Purohit Family priest

Pushya One of the twenty-seven stars in Hindu astrology

Raasi Sign of the zodiac

Rakshasas Demons

Rakshas vivah Marriage performed forcibly with an abducted virgin

Rajoguna The quality of passion and activity

Rudra Veerya Lord Shiva's semen

Saadhana Consistent effort

Saadhyas A clan of demi gods

Saamkhya Yoga School of Indian philosophy

Saatwic The quality of balance, harmony, virtue and peace

Saiva Branch of Hinduism devoted to the worship of Shiva as

Supreme God

Samidhas Twigs offered into the sacred fire during religious rites

Sankha Sacred conch shell

Sathapatha

Brahamana A Hindu religious text

Satyaloka The world of Brahma

Seshatalpa Vishnu's serpent-bed

Siddhas A clan of demigods

Sishyas Disciples

Sloka Verse

Soumya Soma's (Chandra) son

Srshti Creation

Sruvam Wooden instrument used to pour ghee into the

sacrificial fire

Sudra A man of the lowest caste

Sukram Semen

Sukta Vedic aphorism

Suras Gods

Swaathi One of the twenty-seven stars in Hindu astrology

Swami Hindu honorific for Master

Swarga Heaven

Taamasic The quality of imbalance, lethargy, ignorance and

destruction

Tapas Penance

Teertham Holy water

Tejas Splendour

Tejomandala Corona

Thirkaalajnata Knowledge of the past, the present and the future

Tilak An ornament or mark worn by a Hindu on the forehead

to indicate caste

Tretayug The second of the four ages described in Hindu

scriptures

Trimurti The holy trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva

Trinethra Three Eyed: a name for Lord Shiva

Trishul Trident

Upanayanam Investiture with the sacred thread before commencing

religious study

Vanavasam Exile in the forest

Varaaroha A woman with fine hips

Vasantham Spring season

Vasus Elemental gods in Hinduism

Vaikuntha Abode of Lord Vishnu

Vedas Earliest Hindu scriptures

Vidwan Scholar

Vidya Education

Vimana A self-moving aerial vehicle

Virat Purusha Immense cosmic form: Lord Vishnu's universal form

Vishnupriya Beloved of Vishnu

Viswa kartha Creator of the Universe

Viswa bhartha Lord of the Universe

Viswaroopa Universal Form of Lord Vishnu

Vysya A caste

Yajna Ritual sacrifice

Yajus or The Veda of prose mantras

Yajurveda

Yojana Measure of distance

Yuga Cycle of time

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Slokas

Ardhakaayam mahaaveeram Chandraaditya vimardanam!

Simhikaa garbha sambhootam tam Raahum pranamaamyaham!

I offer my salutations to Rahu who is half-bodied, who is distinguished and

valiant, who is the oppressor of Chandra and Aditya and who is born from

Simhika's womb.

Dadhi sankha tushaaraabham ksheerodaarnava sambhavam!

Namaami sasinam Somam Sambhormakuta bhooshanam!

I offer my salutations to Sasi who is known as Soma (Chandra) who shines

like curds, the conch and snow, who rose from the Ocean of Milk, who is

the ornament on Sambhu's (Lord Shiva) crown.

Devaanaam cha rsheenaam cha Gurum kaanchana sannibham!

Buddhimantam trilokesam tam namaami Brhaspatim!

I offer my salutations to Brhaspati, who is the preceptor of the gods and

sages, who is resplendent like gold, who is the personification of wisdom

and who is the lord of the three worlds.

Dharanee garbha sambhootam vidyut kaanti samaprabham!

Kumaaram sakti hastam tam Mangalam pranamaamyaham!

I offer my salutations to Mangala (Kuja) who is born from the womb of the

Earth, who is resplendent like lightning, who is (called) Kumara, and who

holds the weapon, Sakti, in his hand.

Harih Om!

Adityaadi navagraha devataabhyo namah

Adityaaya cha Somaaya Mangalaaya Budhaaya cha

Guru Sukra Sanibhyascha Raahave Ketave namaha.

Salutations to Aditya and other Navagrahas.

I offer my salutations to Aditya, Soma, Mangala, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani,

Rahu and Ketu.

Himakunda mrnaalaabham daityaanaam paramam gurum!

Sarvasaastra pravaktaaram Bhaargavam pranamaamyaham!

I offer my salutations to Bhargava (Sukra) who shines like snow, like the

Kunda flower and lotus-fiber, who is the great preceptor of the demons and

who is the expert orator of all the scriptures.

Japaakusuma samkaasam kaasyapeyam mahaadyutim

Tamorim sarva paapaghnam pranatosmi divaakaram.

I offer my salutations to Divaakara (Surya), who shines like the japa flower,

who is the son of Kasyapa, who is resplendent, who is the enemy of

darkness, and who is the destroyer of all sins.

Kara aravindena pada aravindam

Mukha aravindena vinivesayantam

Vatasya patrasya pute sayaanam

Baalam mukundam manasaa smaraami.

I meditate on that Holy Child who sleeps on the banyan leaf with His lotus-

like foot in His lotus-like hand, placed in His lotus-like mouth.

Neelaanjana samaabhaasam Ravi putram Yamaagrajam!

Chaayaa Maartaanda sambhootam tam namaami Sanaischaram!

I offer my salutations to Sanaischara who shines like dark blue collyrium,

who is the son of Ravi (Surya),who has Yama as his elder brother and who

is born of Chaaya and Maartaanda (Surya).

Palaasa pushpa sankaasam taarakaa graham mastakam!

Roudram roudraatmakam ghoram tam Ketum pranamaamyaham!

I offer my salutations to Ketu who shines like the palaasa flower, who is

foremost among the stars and planets, who is Roudra, whose form is fierce

and horrible.

Priyangu kalikaa syaamam roopenaa apratimam Budham!

Sowmyam Sowmyagunopetam tam Budhaam pranamaamyaham!

I offer my salutations to Budha who is of dark blue complexion like the

Priyangu bud, who is wise, who is of incomparable beauty, who is (called)

Soumya and who is of benevolent quality.

Saptaasva rathamaaroodham prachandam Kasyapaatmajam!

Swethapadmadharam Devam! Tam Suryam! Pranamaamyaham!!

I offer my salutations to Surya who rides the seven horse-chariot, who is

very passionate, who is the son of Kasyapa, who holds the white lotus and

who is God.

Select Bibliography

Andhra Mahabharatam

Bhagavatam

Devi Bhagavatham

The Eighteen Puranas

Mahabharata (Sanskrit)

Ranganatha Ramayanam

Srishti Prakarana

Uttara Ramayanam

Valmiki Ramayana (Sanskrit)

Acknowledgements

N 'avagraha Purana is more than a book – it is the culmination of years of

ongoing research. This research has truly been an epic journey through the

divine forests of Hindu mythology, and I feel privileged to be able to lead

the reader down the jungle paths I so meticulously forged. When I

discovered the task had not yet been undertaken to represent the life and

glory of the Navagrahas (the nine planets), I felt that God had granted me

the opportunity to tell this story, just as He had granted me the gifts with

which to tell it.

A purana is a religious text identified by five particular elements: the

Creation of worlds, the Destruction and Renovation of worlds, the

Genealogy of gods and heroes, the Rein of the Manus, and the Transactions

of their descendants. As each of these elements has a role in the story of the

Navagrahas, I have decided to call my work Navagraha Purana .

It would be far too simple to say that purana is pure fiction. As teams of

researchers continue to discover the many ways that Mars resembles Earth,

those who have read the puranas just smile, for they have known for

generations that the planet Kuja (Mars) is the son of Mother Earth.

Even those who question the scientific foundations of such writing must

admit that it is representative of a spiritual truth. Nevertheless, while

writing the story of the Navagrahas, I took care to maintain harmony

between the scriptures themselves and the way they have come to be

interpreted and practiced by human beings.

I would like to express my deep gratitude to Jaico Publishing House for

making possible the translation of my Navagraha Purana, so that a

valuable Indian story may be shared among an English audience as well.

I owe my sincere thanks to Ms. Sandhya Iyer , Managing Editor, Jaico

Publishing House, for selecting my work for publication, and overseeing

the publication of Navagraha Purana, Ms. Mugdha Guru for her efforts in

every aspect of getting the book printed, Ms. Dipti Patel of Wordfamous for

taking the initiative as my literary agent and Ms. Preetha Kannan for her

expert and significant efforts in editing the book.

And many thanks with my blessings to my beloved daughter Umarji

Anuradha for her continuous endeavors in bringing this book to light.

V S Rao

Hyderabad

About the Author

V S Rao (Vakkantham Suryanarayana Rao) is a celebrated Telugu author,

playwright and script writer. He was born in 1942 at Arikela, a remote

village near Punganuru in Andhra Pradesh and has a high school education.

He wrote his first story, which was for children while still a child himself.

His father Mr. Varadaiah, who was a lover of literature recognized his son's

incipient talent and encouraged him to read extensively. Mr. Rao thus went

on to become a voracious reader and writer par excellence. Later Mr.

Temporau, the pioneer of Telugu pocket detective fiction, became his

mentor.

Mr. Rao's works include short stories, novels, plays and philosophical

articles. Mr. Rao has a number of titles to his credit under the nom de plume

V S Rao, Baatasaari, Koundinya, Suryaatreya and Chitrabhanu. While

working as translator in one of the wings of Tirumala Tirupati

Devasthanams, he has translated a number of Kannada religious books into

Telugu.

His extensive epic-based works include Navagraha Puranam which has

sold more than one lakh copies. His plays explore societal issues and

mythology, while his books run the gamut from philosophy and social

concerns to thrillers and drama. His writing is largely women-centric, and

passionately highlights women's issues.

Mr. Rao is the recipient of numerous literary awards for his plays and prizes

for novels. His short story MODEL was anthologized in the Bharateeya

Jnanapith's Visishta Bhaarateeya Kahaniyan and his literary work has been

the thesis of a doctorate awarded by Sri Venkateswara University.

Mr. Rao is the father of three sons including Vakkantham Vamsi , a reputed

Telugu screen writer. He lives in Hyderabad with his family.

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